The Briarwood Elf by Fitful
by Fitful
Summary: A mad dark wizard's curse hits Harry. Harry becomes very small in Snape's eyes. Snape is alive when he shouldn't be and just a little pissy. SLASH. HP/SS. slavery, not D/s but sorta teasing that way. HPB and DH compliant. This Story is now COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **The Briarwood Elf

**Author: **by Fitful

**Pairings:** Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Harry/Snape

**Warning: **Slash(although it's mostly PG) which means boys kissing boys, Slavery, Adultery, creatureharry, creaturesnape. Sorta D/s( Actually kinda just a teasing nod in that direction.) HBP and DH compliant with a few adjustments( Yes I know, Potter probably doesn't speak Parseltongue anymore.) And there are OC's. They're really there to make the plot move along, and I'm not to shabby at making them, but if you don't read because of them I understand.

**Summary: **A mad dark wizard's curse hits Harry. Harry becomes very small in Snape's eyes. Snape is alive when he shouldn't be and just a little pissy. SLASH. HP/SS. slavery, not D/s but sorta teasing that way. HPB and DH compliant.

The large summary is in my profile so if you don't want to know all the details of whats going to happen in the story you don't have to. If you do wish to spoil all my surprises go and read the notes that inspired this fic.　

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, Severus Snape or anything you recognize, those belong to JKR. I do lay claim to The Devil's Crown and it's idea, Briarwood Cottage and it's idea, the aliases Paddy, Ossian Patrick Prince, and Salem L. Rose, the characters Bryn, Goby, Egeus Morgan, and Valeray Mathias Chickering, and probably half a dozen other things I can't remember right now. Ask before borrowing please.

**Rating: M **This fic is rated for adult matters, content, innuendo, and just in case my mad little mind comes up with something unsuitable for little ears and eyes. Please respect the rating and don't read if you think something here will offend you. Most likely something will so I will shout a little warning before each chapter if I think it's necessary.

Author's Note: I could care less about editing, mostly cause I hate doing it, but if you want to beta let me know. This fic is complete and the wordcount comes to just under 60 thousand. It is slash, READ ABOVE, so keep that in mind if you want to beta. Also let me know if I messed up on something you think I didn't mean to. Helpful criticism and all that.

This story will be posted, the first three chapters all at once, then one a day or two if they're short. It comes out at Twenty Three Chapters.

**T**he **B**riarwood **E**lf

by Fitful

**warning: **here harry is oblivious.

**C**hapter **O**ne

**G**inny was gone again.

Harry could always tell when the house was empty. The moment he stepped into it, whether by floo or walking in the front door or occasionally apparition. The house would feel empty. Quiet. Almost unwelcoming. As with all muggle houses he could always hear the whine and hum of appliances, the tick tick tick of the clock, the drip of the kitchen faucet that stubbornly refused to be fixed. As familiar as these noises were they seemed to make the house all the more empty because when Ginny was home he could never hear them over her activities.

Harry had bought this house for Ginny. It was smaller than he would have liked. He had always wanted a big house filled with rooms that only snobbish people new the use of. He wanted there to be more than enough room for family and friends to stay oven whenever they wanted and not feel squished. He wanted there to plenty of rooms for children how every many they might have.

Harry supposed it went back to the Dursleys, they were usually the root of most of his issues. Living a cupboard for ten years had made him slightly claustrophobic; not enough to interfere with his Auror duties, he wouldn't allow himself that kind of weakness, but enough that when he thought about buying a house it was a large one, with tall ceilings, and large hallways, and a living room that echoed when one shouted in it.

But Ginny had seen their little house and fallen in love with it. After being raised in the ram-shackle rambling thing that was the Burrow she had craved normalcy. The little muggle house in the middle of a little muggle town was perfect. Quite proper and small enough to ensure she felt snug inside. Unlike him Ginny didn't like large spaces. She preferred something tight and cramped. If Malfoy knew he might have made a reference to weasels.

Their bed, for instance, wasn't very big. She complained when he'd brought up getting a large one, claiming she liked to snuggle at night, that he kept her warm. That might have been the case but in actuality she usually ended up sleeping on top of him. He'd wake in the night hardly able to breathe with the weight of her on his chest and her long hair nearly strangling him. Ron said him and Hermione had stopped sleeping so close together about six months into their marriage. Hermione had complained that Ron moved about to much to sleep that way anymore. He said it'd ease up eventually.

It had been four years now and Harry was still sleeping in a tiny bed with Ginny practically smothering him in his sleep.

A part of him liked it, after all he had grown up with a distinct lack of physical intimacy with anyone. The Dursleys never offered anything like a hug, not that he would have accepted one if they had, and the fleeting ones from people like Mrs. Figg, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were always bittersweet. They tended to remind Harry of his lack of hugs instead of comfort as they were meant to. Sirius' hugs were more the thing. Strong and tight and slightly clinging. Almost enough to fill that ache he always carried as a child but never quiet enough. Even with Sirius he never let himself hug back too hard, lest he never let go.

With Ginny he could hug her whenever he wanted. In fact half the time she hugged him, which still came as a small surprise to Harry. It was slightly gratifying to have someone like Ginny. To even have the luxury of taking someone for granted, not that he ever did. But, try as he might to ignore it, there was always the lingering small ache that whispered the hug wasn't strong enough. It wasn't enough to convince him he wasn't alone.

It was an unusual feeling, being alone when he really wasn't. He felt it most strongly when it was just him and Ginny. It puzzled him until he thought one day that perhaps something was missing. It took him weeks to peg down what it was. When he figured it out he could have laughed at his stupidity. Hermione did, actually. He wanted a child. Well children. He wanted Ginny to get pregnant.

At first it was dismissed as an impossibility, he had married far to young, at 17 in fact, and gone straight into Auror training. Ginny had actually gone into professional Quidditch. With her pursuing her career and him pursuing his having a child was impractical. He knew all this and never said anything to her about his wanting one. But then, he'd finished Auror training and spent more time at home. At home with Ginny in their little muggle house. At it was just too quiet.

Finally one day his control on this impractical desire had snapped and he'd blurted out, rather abruptly, that he thought they should get pregnant. Ginny had stared at him then beamed. "Of course Harry," she'd said softly, as if it were an obvious course of action and for the next hour they talked about names and gender and where they'd put the child. Until bedtime when he mentioned getting started and Ginny had looked confused.

Then it all went downhill. She had said she thought he had meant in the future, at some undetermined time. She said she would love to have a child, but it wasn't the right time. She didn't want to be like her mother and make having children her career and put her dreams on hold or put them off altogether. Ginny had talked about how she wanted to have her career in Quidditch first, and when she wasn't old enough to play anymore, then would be the time to have a child.

They'd argued, perhaps their first serious one.

And a few months later she had a Quidditch accident. She fell from her broom in the middle of a game. After a few tense hours at St. Mungos they'd been informed she'd fainted. And broken quite a few bones in the fall. But both Ginny and the baby would be fine.

That was how he'd been informed of Ginny being pregnant. She hadn't been very far along and it had been all the healers could do to make sure she didn't abort.

She'd been upset about the child though. Cried about how her future was ruined, rather incoherently, and how Quidditch was over for her. Harry had put up with it for a few hours but when he'd asked if she was even happy about the baby and received no answer he snapped something cruel to her and left.

They made up when she apologized and said of course she was happy about the baby. Harry had tried to convince her that she could be a mother and play Quidditch too but she'd shaken her head and refused to listen. Harry had told her she was being stupid and they'd argued again.

After they made up the second time he didn't mention Quidditch.

It was around that time when she began disappearing.

He worked irregular hours. That first year as a new Auror the Ministry used him as a promotional tool. They gave him assignments as the Boy-Who-Lived, as the Chosen One, as the Vanquisher of Voldemort. He wasn't taken seriously despite his hard work. The Minister told him it was necessary for him to be the face of the Auror's rather than an actual one. And so his hours were quite irregular. They sent him to other magical communities in France, Spain, Russia, Japan, Africa, and even America. It got so he had to take sleeping potions to readjust to normal hours upon returning.

And when he'd pop in during the day Ginny would be missing.

She said she was shopping, or visiting family and friends. At first he'd taken her word. Why not? She was his wife. She loved him and at first it never occurred to him that she'd lie. Until the day he caught her in one.

She had said she'd been visiting Ron in Hong Kong, where he'd gone to start up a new branch of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. A few weeks later Ron had come back, bubbling with delight over the success he'd had with Japanese witches. Apparently they like jokes a lot, the shop a lot, and his unusual red hair. He's been quick to assure Harry that he hadn't done anything inappropriate but Harry could tell he'd been flattered by the attention. Smiling Harry had asked, jealously aroused, how the wizards had liked Ginny?

Ron had scratched his head and looked confused. He said he hadn't seen Ginny in weeks, that he was actually looking forward to see his little sister again.

Harry had brushed it off. Perhaps she'd missed Ron in the hubbub of everything. Perhaps she'd been arranging something secret for his birthday. Whatever it was, Ginny had kept it secret for a reason, and he trusted her. After all he had things he hadn't told her. And he wasn't one of those husbands that demanded full disclosure of every aspect of their partner's lives. He had put his worry aside and made certain to spend a little extra time with his pregnant wife.

What he hadn't acknowledged was the small kernel of doubt that crept into the space where he never had enough hugs. Stupid Dursleys.

But it happened again, and then twice more. And it became more and more obvious that she was lying. And Harry began to worry for the baby. Perhaps she was having problems and she didn't want him to know? What if _she _dying and she didn't want to tell him. Harry really didn't know what to do and so he fell back on habit. He went to Hermione.

Hermione had frowned while she listened to Harry. Harry had been very careful not to accuse Ginny of anything, he really didn't believe it was anything bad anyway. Hermione had noticed though, of course she had, and had asked him outright if he thought Ginny was cheating on him. Harry's mind had gone blank. He couldn't imagine. He couldn't even contemplate thinking such a think. Hermione had pressed, despite his lack of an answer which she said actually was an answer, and told him gently if he suspected Ginny of something he should ask Ginny and not sneak around talking to her about it.

Harry didn't think he had been sneaking but hadn't said anything. He also never got up the courage to confront Ginny. That had been nearly a month ago.

And now Ginny was gone _again._

Harry had popped in with apparition this time. He hadn't the time to deal with floo powder and ashes at the moment, he was supposed to be in Plymouth shortly to apprehend a dark wizard. His first real assignment. With the Minister finally on board he'd begun taking real Auror assignments but always with an older partner. Now, though, Octavia Edith had finally retired and Harry was free, well until they assigned him a new partner.

Frowning at Ginny's absence Harry paused for a moment then sighed. He missed her. He missed his wife.

It had been so nice in the beginning. She'd be here when he'd get home after a long day of Auror training and a cooking dinner would chase away the smell of sweat and spells and occasionally blood. She'd be humming as she tended to her Quidditch gear or muttering, sometimes half shouting, as she planned strategy for the next game. The dishes would be in the sink washing themselves, a piece of magic Harry always loved to see, and there would be crackling fire even in the summer as Ginny got cold very easily. The living room would always smell like cinnamon as Ginny loved to throw bundles of the stuff on the fire just because she liked the smell.

Even when he had arrived on the weekends, when Ginny was most busy, he had had been able to tell if she was home. She'd leave her clothes everywhere, a jumper on the couch, trainers by refrigerator, Quidditch gear piled up on the dining table. Those days he'd find her in the bath where she would always welcome him most gratifyingly.

Now it was like she didn't even live there anymore.

And the worst of it was, she was nearly eight months pregnant. Just where could she go all the time?

Harry sighed grimly as he gathered the mail left on the counter and stacked it before setting it back down. Perhaps she was at the Quidditch pitch. She could be observing or even helping with strategy. But why would she lie about that?

It didn't really matter now as he had somewhere to be. With a dissatisfied look around the house he'd bought for Ginny he grabbed his AID tag (Auror Identification) the reason he'd returned home in the first place as he'd forgot it this morning, and apparated with a pop. As he arrived in Plymouth he tried not to imagine the sound of his passing echoing in the empty house.

**Ok. Not much happens here. I promise the story gets much better. And it will be funny, just bear with me. Oh, I'm wondering if you can guess what Snape is, what harry's going to be, where ginny's running off to, how harry will get out of his pickle. Let me know. **

**Fitful.**


	2. Chapter 2

**warning: **here harry is patient and unconcerned.

**C**hapter **T**wo

Egeus Artecus Morgan was one hundred and fifty-two today. Egeus Morgan was a dark wizard that had followed Grindelwald faithfully until caught by the ministry. Apparently there had been a problem with Azkaban security at the time and although he was quite guilty of all accusations made against him there was no where to put him for the rest of his life. As he had been 16 at the time the Ministry couldn't justify execution and was therefore forced to become creative.

They then cast as spell, an incantation now outlawed and only known by the obscure wizards working in the Department of Mysteries, that would make it impossible for Morgan to use dark magic for precisely 135 years. This ended up a disaster as the spell was set to identify anything destructive as dark and therefore prevented spells such as banishing spells, permanent transfiguration spells, a number of healing spells, and even spells that would simply light a candle as fire was a destructive force and such a wizard couldn't be trusted with it.

With such a spell restricting his magic Egeus Morgan was unable to do most anything and was forced to enter the muggle world to find work. The Ministry tried it's best but lost track of him for a good number of years and upon locating him again found him more than a bit mad. He was established in a family home, set up with variously charmed things, and left to his own devices, perhaps out of guilt.

This morning the spell ran it's course, and Egeus Morgan was officially a free wizard. Unofficially he was to be monitored for the next 50 years just in case he decided to use dark magic again; a precaution that held water as at 1:34pm on the first day of his freedom the Ministry detected the use of dark magic at Number 111, Ashwick Rd, also known as Morgan Manor.

Harry studied the Manor and decided it was more of a small castle really. It was old, and partially crumbling in places. Ivy and something that looked mysteriously like Devil's Snare wound itself around the stone manor, covering all windows. Harry decided it must be rather dark inside and wished he had brought a house elf with him to light the way. An odd wish as he didn't own one, well except for Kreacher but he didn't count as Hermione didn't like it and had made Harry leave him in peace. Actually he hadn't really encountered one for months. In fact the only time he did see one nowadays was when visiting the odd wizard dwelling that more often that not had dark leanings.

When he knocked on the door, the old stone knocker actually scaring him a bit with it's rather malevolent serpentine grin, he was forced to wait for an answer. It was actually 15 minutes before he even heard shuffling coming from inside the house and another 5 before the door actually opened. Having learned patience over the past few years Harry had stood staring at a yellow flower for most of the time he waited and actually had to drag his eyes away from it to meet mad blue ones that peered at him from the dark hallway beyond.

"A boy. By the Saint's Balls! They send a boy, of course, they don't take anything serious, do they." Morgan muttered beneath his breath, followed by a smattering of what might have been German, before he opened the door wider and gestured for Harry to enter.

Foreboding chased its way across his fears before he ignored it, like any proper Gryffindor, and stepped into the house. Turning to the wizard Harry was just in time to catch the door shutting with a loud bang. Morgan turned about suddenly and pierced Harry with mad blue eyes.

"Follow, Boy!" He barked suddenly and set off at a snail's pace. Harry shrugged and followed him, ready to draw his wand at a moment's notice if things took a bad turn, and took the time to study him.

Morgan was bent so far over he was nearly in half, and looked to have been a tall fellow once upon a time. His white hair was sporadically missing in patches on his head and it looked like he was used to using a cane, the way his left hand hung down and remained at his side clutched over an absent clouded cane. He didn't wear robes either, just muggle clothes although they were quite outdated. Harry was forced to stifle laughter when his perusal ended with Morgan's feet. The dark wizard was wearing slippers. White ones. In Harry's opinion they resembled bunnies.

In the drawing room, Harry was quite sure it was called a drawing room in houses such as these, the wizard shuffled over to the roaring fire and began adding wood by hand.

"Well, sit down, boy!" He barked again mumbling about manners. Harry frowned and finally spoke, realizing he probably should have before.

"My apologies, sir, but my visit isn't social." Harry began and paused but Morgan didn't react. "I'm here regarding the used of dark magic while on a probationary period. I'm afraid I'll need to check your wand, sir."

Morgan didn't respond for a while and Harry decided to once again employ his waiting skills. He let his eyes wander the room for want of anything better to do. The room was actually quite cozy, although cluttered. It seemed Morgan spent most of his time here. Potions equipment was scattered on a wooden table with food stuffs, and a bubbling pot of what looked like stew, or could have been a vile concoction.

Couches and settees filled the room, leaving only a small maze of a walk way through it. Books were everywhere, and nearly as many scrolls littered the surfaces and a few were even pinned to the tapestries that covered the walls. A muggle refrigerator held up a potted plant that was definitely devil's snare. The deadly ivy had wound itself around the muggle appliance and crept out to smother nearly an entire chair and half of the fireplace mantle. A rifle lay on the mantle, and beside it a book in Mermish.

Harry was quite intrigued and could have occupied himself for ages. This was the kind of room he wish he could have been in on anyone of those 'assignments' to foster relations with foreign magical communities. But it was not to be. Soon enough Morgan had filled the fire to capacity and turned around to look disapprovingly at Harry.

"I'm not giving you my wand," He announced quite loudly, and his blue eyes darted to the table nearest him where there indeed lay a wand that Harry assumed was Morgan's.

Harry had learned patience very well. "I'm not hear to take you wand, Mr. Morgan, but I will need to see it." He said soothingly. "I just need to determine what spell you used. Nothing more. I'm quite sure it was just one you haven't been notified is now illegal."

Morgan's wrinkled face attempted a sneer but his down turned mouth seem unable to hold it up. "Illegal, bah! In my day the Ministry stayed out of people's business! There was separation that don't exist now. Laws only were there to keep order! As if I, an old decrepit old man, could disrupt any order that exists today!"

Harry privately agreed, but he was required to follow regulations. It was always the older generations, he found, that were the hardest to convince to follow the rules.

"I do understand your reservations, Mr. Morgan, but you see _I _am required by law to follow regulations." Harry had been told many times that he was exceptionally earnest. He had a way of saying something that made other people believe what he said. Even when he didn't. He was convinced he would be able to make Morgan see his way of things.

Morgan's blue eyes studied him, one twitching momentarily and rolling off to the side before settling back into place. Suddenly Morgan grinned, rotten teeth showing, and Harry was disturbingly reminded of Barty Crouch polyjuiced as Mad-Eye Moody.

"You are an unhappy boy, aren't you?" He had started out loud but his voice had softened as he said it. "Unhappy with life, boy? Your career, perhaps?" His right eye twitched this time and rolled a darting glance at his wand. "I could help, you know. Used to be a right good spellcrafter in my day. I could do something-"

Harry felt forced to interrupt. Morgan was inching toward offering a bribe and, according to regulations, if he actually did Harry would be forced to report it. That meant more paperwork and an inquiry. Harry wasn't in the mood.

"I'm apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but I am really here just to check your wand. Then I''ll be on my way."

Morgan closed his mouth and nodded, seemingly to someone to Harry's right. Alarmed Harry followed Morgan's gaze but saw nothing. Carefully he let his eyes drag over everything, checking for a disillusionment charm or anything of that sort. Having an invisibility cloak had always made Harry aware that although no one might seem to be there he should check thoroughly anyway. But there really was no one there this time and Harry relaxed and swung his eyes back to Morgan.

Only to find the old wizard had his wand in hand and it was trained on him. Instinct had Harry simultaneously conjuring a shielding spell as well as diving, but when he crashed to the floor he had just enough time to realize Morgan hadn't missed before the world went black.

**Yes I know. I made Harry a laid back idiot. Sue me. **


	3. Chapter 3

**warning: **here harry has amnesia.

**C**hapter **T**hree

Harry awoke to white slippers obscuring his vision.

And to pain. Gasping he moaned and then gasped again when his voice sounded squeaky. He'd never heard that sound come out of him before!

But he really didn't have time to think about it as his entire body was pain. It lick along his skin and his muscles and even bones. It was worse than anything he had ever felt before, and considering he was Harry Potter, that was saying something. And his heart was beating much to fast. He could hear it, a _pip pip pip pip pip _in his ears, and the sound of it made his head ache it was so loud.

Then, suddenly, there was a touch to his head, soft and comforting, and the pain seemed to reduce drastically.

"Hush, little one." An old voice said. "The pain will pass."

A whimper escaped his lips and his vision blurred as another wave of pain over took him. For a long while he forgot his name. When the pain retreated he couldn't quite remember it. Perhaps it started with an H? Then there was pain again.

But the hand on his head never left, he could feel it, the hot touch, a degree too warm to be comfortable. It was nothing like G- Gin-, like his wife's touch. It was comforting, whereas her's was always, expecting. As if she wanted something from him all the time, whenever she touched him. The white fur of the slippers was all he could see but it was astonishingly close. He could see every individual synthetic hair.

The pain was nearly gone but he was so tired. He couldn't imagine moving. The sound of air, methodically whooshing in and out in and out could be heard from above him. Was he outside? Perhaps the white slippers weren't slippers at all. Why had he thought they were slippers anyway? Perhaps it was white grass. Snow grass. Grass made of ice? Was there such a thing?

With effort decided to move his hand. He wanted to feel the white grass. It took a lot of convincing, but there was no pain when he did. His arm merely felt heavy. His hand was large, when did it get so big? But was it any wonder his arm was tired when it had to carry around such a big hand?

The large hand touched the white grass. Oh. It was soft, and not cold like snow or biting like ice. It was slipper stuff. Fuzzy slipper fur. Perhaps from a slipper tree? Or a slipper creature? Hmm. He'd not heard of one. Perhaps the moon had. No that wasn't quite right. Not the moon. The-the wolves' bane, Moony's Bogart, Loon, Lu-

A chuckle from the wind assaulted his ears. It was so loud! But the hand was comforting and the tremor from the laughter felt through the touch let him know it was the wind's hand. Or perhaps it was a person? Who? There was a man; wild blue eyes and tuffs of white hair. Dumble-no. Flamit, ill, Flames?Why couldn't he remember names? Ah. More-something.

"It will be difficult for you, little one. To come into it so late in life." The wind laughed very loudly. "To come into such a thing at all! By Morgana's tits, you must be powerful!"

His overly large hand curled into a fist in the soft slipper fur before he forced it to his ear. Why was everything so loud! But the sound of the laughter faded and he was able to move his fingers away. They mimed the stroking the wind did to his head, soothing the ache of noise from his sensitive ear. The wind's hand moved suddenly to join his. It stroked his ear once.

And he was forced to jerk away! Gasping, at what the touch had done. His abrupt movement had pulled his eyes away from the white slippers and to the blue, blue eyes of Mor-gue? Morgoon. Moron? It didn't matter. What mattered was his ears never be touched again! It had hurt so bad! Or perhaps it hadn't. Perhaps that had been pleasure. . .

His large eyes took in the man before him. The wizard- his mind corrected after a moment. When had he gotten so big? Somehow he soared to the ceiling like a tree. Or perhaps not, as the door way was still above his head.

The blue eyes twinkled at him, reminding him of - a bumblebee?

"You must have questions, yes, so many questions, but first we'll find you a name, hmm? Yes a good name to ground you, otherwise the binding spells will drive you mad!" His eyes rolled in opposite directions rather madly as if in example. "Well!" He demanded quite abruptly. "Do you have anything in mind, my green eyed one?"

Names slipped away in his mind. He couldn't seem to get a hold of one. He knew he had one once, and had known many others. Hermy? Won Wheezy? Not either sounded quite right nor did he think they belonged to him. S-Sirius, he remembered that one, but oh- it caused pain. Snuffles-Padf-Paddifeet?

"Paddi-" He started to say aloud, trying to sound it out but the sound of his voice stopped him. It wasn't his voice. He didn't recognize it. It was high, soft. Like a child's voice or a-

"Paddy is an excellent name for a house elf." The old wizard man thundered loudly in approval. H-Paddy cringed at the noise. "Quite genius too, to come up with it so quickly. I'd have thought the memory charm would have made it more difficult."

Paddy stared at the old wizard in horror. House elf? "Memory Charm?" he squeaked.

The blue eyes stopped twinkling. "Yes, Paddy. I'm afraid, after I realized what you'd become, I was forced to use it. The origin of house elves is a long kept secret, one passed down through my family for generations." He shook his head. "Not that I'd been intending for you to become one, mind, that was an accident," He looked puzzled for a moment and stared off into space before muttering. "You must have had some elven blood somewhere in your ancestry," He trailed off before rounding on- on Paddy once more and piercing him with blue eyes. "But it's just as well. House Elves are happy creatures, and you were quite miserable. Now you won't be." He smiled with innocent pleasure.

Paddy the house elf just stared at him. His memory was a bit fuzzy but things were coming back to him. He _wasn't_ a house elf. Or, well he wasn't before now. He had been someone, Hardy, Harpy?Who-knew-who? He had done many things and fought bad wizards and so many had died. . .

Tears suddenly welled up in his eyes, and spilled out, horrifying Paddy. He'd never cried before! Not since he was a hundred and ten! Err, wrong. Ten! Yes that was correct. He hadn't let himself. But now the pain of loosing everyone overwhelmed him. Ceddy, Snuffy, Dumbles . . Snapey. Oh it was all too much. He began to wail, very loudly, assaulting his own ears with the dreadful noise but couldn't seem to stop. Was this how Hermy felt when she was pissy? How _terrible._

"Oh there, there Paddy. It's quite alright." The mad old man reached over and patted his head, which shocked his tears into hiding. "We'll find you a master and then you'll be much happier, I know this," The old man nodded rapidly. "I had one once, a house elf, hmm can't quite remember her name. But she was always much happier when serving people"

Because she was a slave! Paddy couldn't help but think but something kept it from tumbling out his lips. Fear of-of something. What? Pain? Oh. If it was the pain he felt before he was quite justified in keeping quiet.

The mad old man looked at him appraising and nodded again. "Alright, take my hand, Paddy. We must be off!"

An unusual feeling overtook Paddy. Usually when given an order, even by his boss, Sher-Shac-Shag-something, he had to get over a small bit of-of annoyance at the order. It got easier over the years but sometimes it still rankled to be told what to do, when he was an adult and _knew _what to do already!

But now, when the old man told him to take his hand, Paddy's first instinct was to obey! He had started moving before he knew what he was about and only his well practiced will power made him stop before he took a hold of the old man's hand. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. How? Why?

The old man didn't give him time to discuss it. "That's enough angst there, Paddy." He said and took his hand in his. Paddy couldn't help but stare at the difference in size. "And off we go."

And with that the old man pulled them along with a crack of apparition that did echo in the large hall way of Morgan Manor.

**And now you know. Harry has been turned into a house elf. That is basically the gist of the story. Harry is a house elf, Snape needs a house elf. Is there any other way to write a new idea of Snarry? I personally thought this was genius. If, perhaps by a one in a million chance, it has been done before . . . LET ME KNOW. Please.**

**Fitful**


	4. Chapter 4

**warning: **here harry is sold into slavery.

**C**hapter **F**our

They arrived into the middle of hell.

Paddy knew it was hell as it was dreadfully hot and there were creatures that were most decidedly _not _human roaming about in clothes as if they were. Also red seemed the dominant color, and provided the dim lighting that made it possible to see all the hideous, scary creatures that roamed about. The sky was black and there was no moon or stars or anything. The ground was like that of a cave and the small rock scattered on it hurt Paddy's feet. That was when he realized he was shoeless.

"WELCOME, to The Devil's Crown!" The mad old wizard roared startling a female looking lizard woman into hissing at him in disapproval. Paddy just looked at him in horror. The old man ignored him and, huffing once in laughter, grabbed his hand and dragged him into the crowd.

Paddy stumbled and nearly fell a dozen times before they turned and waded out of the worst of the crowd. He immediately stepped on what seemed to be something's tail and was actually grateful the old man just pulled him along instead. The snap of sharp teeth just barely missed him. They seemed to travel miles before the old man slowed and allowed Paddy to walk under his own power. Despite them slowing down he was still forced to run to keep up.

"Now the thing to know about the Devil's Crown is to never stop moving!" The old man barked, sounding like a teacher but weaving like a drunk, pulling Paddy along with him. "That is when they get you! You wonder who they are! They are everyone! Everyone here is either dark, a dark creature, hunting dinner, or going to be dinner. This is the underground, Paddy. The unspoken depths of the earth and the best kept secret of all magical kingdoms! NEVER come here, unless you have someone to protect you!"

The ring of his last sentence hit Paddy hard and he grimaced when he recognized it as an order. It had been said so forcefully he doubted if he'd be able to disobey. As if he needed protection! He was the great Harpy Plotter! Wait that was wrong. The wizardly- wizarding- wizard child who - dash it all he couldn't remember. He'd had countless stories written about him, he- he was an action figure!

But it seemed as if no one care- or recognized him at least, not that he could even recognize the species of anyone either. The old man just pulled him along, humming happily, until they finally reached a dark door that he banged on with his head.

Paddy stared at him in dismay. Morgum was indeed mad. Who was going to protect him now?

The door opened, however, and a human looking woman peered out, blinking in surprise when she saw the mad old man.

"Morgan! What are you doing here?" She hissed but was smiling and pulling him, and Paddy too as the old man still had a hold of his arm, inside and closing the door. It was dark, too dark to see, and the noise of the outside seemed to fade complete causing Paddy to sigh in relief. It would have hurt human ears but apparently elf ears were far more sensitive.

A match hissed in the silence and suddenly he could see faces. The woman looked human still, he'd been half afraid she'd change into something in the dark, but Morgum looked madder still as he seemingly gazed about the dark room as he if he could see everything.

"You've changed things since I was last here, Bryn" He muttered gruffly, finally turning his wild blue eyes to meet hers.

Her laugh was a ting of sound. "It's been a while, old man." She smiled at him softly, and Paddy felt suddenly uncomfortable, as if he were intruding. Then she blinked and the look was gone. "Well, business, then?" She glanced once at Paddy before turning around, taking the light with her. "Follow me."

They walking in the dark for a long time, nearly an hour. Neither the Morgey or Bryny spoke. Paddy spent the time pondering why his elf brain screwed up people's names. By the time they arrived he had concluded it was the result of the effect of the memory charm. Brain cells must have been permanently damaged to induce such a specific area of memory loss and it must happen to every house elf. Which meant every house elf must have been turned into one, which boggled the mind and had Paddy wishing he could bang _his _head on a door. Or into a wall.

They arrived at a door that opened into a great circular room. In the middle was a long wooden table and all around were doors, many of them piled with chains, locks, and glowing with magic. It looked like a dungeon of some sort and considering where he was it more than likely held vicious and dangerous creatures.

Bryny led the way to the end of the table where she seated her self gracefully and Morgey fell into the chair causing it to protest. Paddy wasn't offered a seat but wasn't offended. He was too busy looking around at the various locked doors, wondering what horrible scary, monsters lay behind them. Bryny made an odd motion and a blank scroll appeared. Another odd motion and a quill with an empty inkwell also appeared.

"Now, it's name?"She began in a no nonsense tone picking up the quill and dipping it in the seemingly empty inkwell. Paddy's eyed a door with a widow as the mad old man answered.

"His name is Paddy, he's a he, and he only recently got made into a house elf."

Bryny blinked her eyebrows shooting up. "And how did that happen?"

Morgey grinned showing off his rotten teeth. "Magic."

She snorted. "I suppose he's young then? That would explain the hair." She made a few marks on the scroll.

Paddy blinked. Did he have hair? He touched his head and found he did. A bit surprised he pulled a fistful of it over his face into his eyes. It was white and kinda fluffy. Hmm. He'd never heard of a house elf with hair.

"Ach, well Paddy's unique. He's quite powerful, got so much magic that quite a bit of leaked out during his transformation."

"Really." Bryny looked intrigued then her face fell. "I don't suppose you might forget and let me know about the process-"

"Now, Bryn, that's a family secret, and you're not quite family." His grin widened though. "Now if you'd agree to marry me . . ."

Bryny snorted and shook her head make more notations on the scroll. Try as he might Paddy couldn't see any actual writing on the paper.

"Now you've put a temporary binding spell I assume?" Bryn nodded before he could. "And he'll need a permanent binding spell, a grounding spell, slavery spell, blood spell, and silencing one?" She frowned. "You won't make much gold off him, Egeus."

Morgum looked unconcerned. "S'alright. My wards'll be charged for years, I'm already quite pleased."

Bryny didn't answer, apparently she was all business at the moment. "50 of your galleons."

Morgum snorted. So did Paddy. He was worth much more than that.

He grunted and picked some dirt out of his nails. "500"

Bryny's eyes sparkled. "Done."

Morgum grinned. "That's nice Bryn m'dear." He stood. "Come here, Paddy, got to take the bindings off you."

Paddy was half way to him before he stopped suddenly. All the sudden it occurred to him he was about to be sold into slavery! Quite rightly he became furious. And his magic reacted like never before. Instead of building within, and leaking out; shaking things, making them explode, as any powerful wizard could it began as a storm deep in the earth. He could feel the magic all the way down, feel it climbing slowly through the dirt and stone and water and-

"Now, now none of that m'lad." Morgum lashed out with his hand and caught Paddy's arm. With a gasp he squirmed as something wrapped around him, like invisible chains, and he thrashed once, before the pain became too much. Sagging in the dark wizard's grip he stopped fighting, unable to. For a moment his mind was clear.

Harry. His name was Harry P-

With a whine and a few painful clicks spells fell around him, climbing into his nose, and mouth, and ears; wiggling up into his nail beds and down into more person areas to slid painfully inside him. Then a gold spell seemed to coat his skin and seep inside. Suddenly he was dropped to the earth, where he could feel his magic rolling underneath but couldn't touch it. Hissing Parseltongue curses he endured the pain until it got too bright to bear and he slipped into darkness.

**As this is fanfiction I feel perfectly justified in stealing lines from published works. But I will admit, if you caught the line, that it doesn't belong to me. There might be another line like it but I can't remember where it is. Anyhoo, the one in this chapter belongs to Disney.**

**So, did you like the story? I know, short chapters, but considering I wrote this whole story in a week I feel perfectly justified in presenting it the way I see fit.**

**Happy Reading.**

**Fitful**

**ps: my favorite bit was the Harpy Plotter addition. I laugh whenever I read over it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Okay. About Saith. I have not abandoned it. I love Saith and have many big plans for the story, plans that require it to continue, so it will be picked up. But maybe not anytime soon. I have writers block on a very important scene. It's impossible to continue until I've been cured. Sorry.**

**I hope you enjoy this little fic in the meantime. **

**All my love.**

**Fitful**

**warning: **here harry is given orders.

**C**hapter **F**ive

Harry awoke to haggling.

"It's not fair, Bryn Slythen Pierce! How was I to know he was a Parselmouth! I demand another 500!"

"No"

"I'll have you know I know about that muggle, what was his name. Pipe, Pope? Poe? That's it; I know what you did to him, you better-"

"He's long dead, no one would care."

Morgan hissed in fury. "I want more money. You owe me that, girl. You'll not find another like him. Did you feel his magic?"

Harry was in quite a bit of pain. But because he was Harry he moved anyway. It pulled a grunt out of him and caught the haggler's attention.

A hand to his head, this time female, carded through his hair. "Shh, elfling. The pain will pass. You shouldn't have struggled so much."

With a deep breath he pushed himself onto his back, and shuddered, blinking tears of pain away. He stared into her brown eyes and felt a smidgen of hate stirring. She had enslaved him. How dare she! He was going to-

A whine escaped as his body was engulfed in pain. And then an actual scream escaped. It sounded like a dying rabbit. When the pain fled he couldn't have moved even if that bad wizard Moldywort had popped in. Byrn still had her hand on his head, her fingers were still though.

"That, elfling, was what happens when you contemplate violence against your master." Her voice was a soft whisper in his ear. "I suggest you not do it again."

Harry, Paddy, or whoever he was couldn't even sigh.

"Don't do that again, Paddy. It gets worse every time, and the bad thing is, you're an elf now. Now matter how bad the pain is you'll live through it." Harry opened his eyes slowly to meet dreamy mad blue ones. "No dying for you." Morgey-Morgan sang softly.

Of course. The worst curse only for him. Harry Bloody P- Drat the memory charm!

He did manage to form a thought of ill will against M- Morgan. With much effort he glared at him. "Piss off, Morgey." Well it wasn't quite what he had in mind but it worked. Thankfully there was no repercussion for it.

Morgan merely chuckled before turning a dark eye to Bryn. "My money!" He growled.

Bryn nodded to the table. "There, with the extra 500 you demanded."

Morgan was quick to make his way. Snatching up something he grinned, rotten teeth clacking shut as if he were biting the air. "I'll just get on my way then, dove."

And with that he left.

For a moment Harry mourned his absence.

Then Bryn spoke. "You are not to tell any soul, living or dead or not alive, master or not-master, who you were before. You are to never harm a wizard, muggle, or mortal, except in you current master's defense. You are to obey your master, and others if it doesn't interfere with your master's orders. Your magic, time, sweat, blood, and body is to be used for your master and your duty before yourself. Should you feel you need for punishment you are to punish yourself. You are to love your master beyond anyone else and love your duty. These are the timeless rules laid down before slaves by my mouth and no other. Only I can recant these, so mote it be!"

His vision blurred as the magic took hold.

"Now, do you have any preferences where you are placed, elfling?"

Harry was tired. Almost too tired to care. He was a slave. Who did it matter was his master? But briefly the creatures he and Morgan had passed came to mind and he chose.

"A wizard for a master." The word tasted like ashes and honey. "Please, Mistress. I prefer the wizarding world."

Bryn breathed out a laugh. "So proper, elfling. You'll fetch a good price with manners like that."

Quietly she stood, and Harry blessed her for her consideration. Any loud noise would be unbearable after all the pain he'd gone through recently. But perhaps it wasn't consideration for a moment later she issued an impossible order.

"Up, elfling."

It was an order though and he had no choice but to obey. Grunting and stifling groans he got to his feet, absently noticing he was wearing wizarding robes sized to him. In fact they were his robes!

Bryn didn't give him time to contemplate that. "Follow." Was her next order and she took off leaving him to follow her to a door opposite the one they had come in. She led him down a winding path in the ground, cut from stone, and many twists and turns had her issuing more orders. With every one he obeyed the pain lessened and then disappeared. By the time they arrived in another large chamber he was nearly giddy with happiness.

So happy Harry was he barely paid attention to Bryny as she spoke softly to a humanoid looking man and motioned him into a small crate. Humming the Hogwarts song to Ginny's favorite tune, I Could Have Danced All Night he climbed in and nestled into a pile of wood shavings thoughtfully left for him. It wasn't until he was nearly asleep that it occurred to him house elves weren't happy creatures by design, they were conditioned with spells. Obeying orders gave them a sort of high.

Oh dear.

That thought was so disturbing he decided sleep would be a much better option than contemplating the slavery of house elves. Besides, Hermy-ioney was going to free them all one day and then he'd be perfectly fine!

**Ok. Snape next chapter. And more houseelfharry the chapter after that. I really liked writing house elves. It was a mostly ignored part of the wizarding world that I thought needed attention. Oh and the Snarry is a plus too. If your squicked by the idea of houseelfharry/wizardsnape, don't be. It remains pretty much PG. **

**For the most part.**

**Fitful**


	6. Chapter 6

**warning: **here harry isn't. snape is.

**C**hapter **S**ix

Severus Snape needed a house elf.

He really didn't like it. He wasn't the sort of man who liked admitting he needed help. He'd been doing things for himself for so long it was second nature. Asking for help was almost as bad as failing. Almost. In this case failing let to death and dirt. At the moment the issue of dirt was more pressing.

Spinner's End had become something of a nightmare for him, so when he'd "died" four years ago he'd vowed never to return, not that it would have been a good idea anyways as he'd be thrown in Azkaban for his crimes the moment he stepped foot inside. Instead he took off for America, rather a bad decision as Americans were loud, crude, slovenly creatures, muggles and wizards alike that put things like ice in their tea and drove their muggle motorcars on the wrong side of the road. They also had butchered the English language beyond all recognition.

Snape had been more than happy to leave.

The only good thing about America was the profit he'd made, and a few interesting connections. He'd also managed to make a name for himself as one Salem L. Rose. Now a noted Potions Master in the wizarding world and a Doctor in the muggle one he'd returned to England, glamour intact, and immediately found himself a house.

It was quite the lovely house too. A beautiful cottage near Dorset, just far enough away from town, and outfitted with both muggle necessities and wizarding ones. The muggle appliances were slightly out of date and the household charms were deteriorating but they were fixable and irrelevant compared to what lay awaiting him in the basement.

It was a potion's master's wet dream. Endless storage, granite table tops spelled to last eons, spells lovingly tend for venting, preservation, demonstration, assistance, defense, healing! There were even wards wrapped around the lab stronger than some at Gringotts equal to a few at Hogwarts. Dark wards, light wards, wards against magical creatures, wards against ghost, goblins ghouls, muggles and, more importantly, children! They were all there, with the added bonus of something of a dungeon, equipped with cells ready for use. The rotten corpse of a werewolf was the only thing that marred them, but it gave testimony to what they had been used for.

The realtor, a squib from a noted dark family that had managed to escape execution, had smirked when he commented on it and murmured that the werewolf added verisimilitude.

But after the deeds had been signed and the Galleons passed hands and Snape had actually settled into his little slice of heaven he had realized life would be much harder than it was in America. Food for instance. Death had changed Snape, a lot, but perhaps most importantly it had affected his diet. In America his special needs had been met quite gamely but here there was less of a-a tolerance for his tastes.

The cottage did have a lovely garden behind the house, brimming with a grand bounty of vegetables, squashes, fruits, and herbs. A private green house nearly had him panting in glee. Potion's ingredients plentiful in their abundance, filled the small glass house ripe for the picking. And there was an orchard, with a shocking variety of trees.

Oh he would eat quite well in vegetables, fruits, and such. He'd never want for potions again. Meat . . . well he didn't often eat it. Lately it had begun to turn his stomach something most foul.

He really needed a house elf.

The cottage had so many charms he'd quite forgotten the fact that he'd have to clean the blasted thing on a regular basis. After repairing household charms, cleaning, moving in, setting up his lab, buying furniture, he had turned around and found he needed to clean it again! Dust was the bane of his existence now. If only his students had known while he was a professor. They'd have been able to get rid of him by setting dust curses in his closets!

The need of a house elf finally forced him to reveal himself to Lucius, not the best of decisions in the long run but better than wasting away in a dust filled hovel. Not that the cottage was anything like Spinner's End of course.

Lucius was quite shocked at first, a memory Snape promised to enjoy later, but was soon congratulated him on his Slytherin cunning. He droned on and on about his son and his new daughter in law and their child to be, his aspirations for becoming minister at long last, and the fact that Potter was apparently missing as of a week ago. That news had nearly frozen him, and it was a good thing Lucius had been turned away or else he would have noted it for later use.

The fact that Potter had lived was . . . was infuriating. How dare that boy live and not tell him! And then disappear! He had _died _to help the dratted child and this was the thanks he got. The boy lived for another four years only to vanish!

But he had been forced to put the thought of Potter aside for the duration of his visit at Malfoy Manor and attend to business. It turned out that Lucius did indeed have contacts who might be able to find him a house elf, at a price. Lucius then generously offered to pay for the thing. "A gift." He proposed. "For protecting my son all those years." Snape had declined politely, quite sure Lucius had been sincere but finding the idea of being indebted to the Malfoys unpalatable. Perhaps if it had been his godson offering . . . but that was neither here nor there.

Finally Lucius's contact had come through. There was an unplottable location he would portkey to, where he could have his pick. Snape sneered at Lucius's clever maneuvering. It would seem he might be in debt to the Malfoy scion after all. Ah, well. It _was _a matter of life or death.

After all if the dust didn't kill him, the creeping roses wrapped half-way around the grounds would eventually do him in.

It really served him right for purchasing _Briarwood Cottage. _What had he been thinking?

**Next Chapter house elf harry and snape meet. Oh. Did you like Snape? **


	7. Chapter 7

**warning: **here harry meets snape. slavery, begging, and much cursing ensues.

**C**hapter **S**even

Harry was sick of waking up to daunting situations.

This time he awoke to find himself in a cage. To his right was an acromantula.

Luckily it was in a separate cage and seemed to be asleep. Still it was a distinct cause for alarm and Harry hadn't been able to help his squeak of surprise. Fitting himself along the cage wall farthest from the spider Harry took the time to calm his racing heart and think.

It was always an annoyance to him that he had to stop and think. His inability to think while doing something had been the hardest to overcome in Auror training. It seemed thinking _and _doing was not a Gryffindor concept. Leap before looking, trust your instinct, all bravado sort of thing was the Gryffindor motto. It was a good thing the hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin. Otherwise he might not have survived. To Become A House Elf!

Oh dear. He was now the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-House-Elf. Piss and sod it all! Malfoy wasn't even here to enjoy his misery. No the pleasure was all Harry's. Or Paddy's depending on who was asking.

Finally Harry shook off his thoughts long enough to look around. It wasn't a pretty sight. Apparently slavery was alive and well in the world. Even thriving from the looks of it. Every which way he looked there were wizards haggling, money changing hands, creatures being bought and sold. The Ministry would love to find out about this.

The thought immediately conjured up intense pain. Gasping Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip to keep from screaming. It took a while for it to fade. When it did Harry was very careful about his thoughts. Note to self: _Never _tell the Ministry about the slave trading business going on under its nose. The pain flared again. Wiping tears away he amended his vow. Never tell _anyone _about the thriving slave market. There, happy?

The pain faded and he slumped against the iron bars, shivering as the metal siphoned off some of his magic greedily. He really needed to do something about these dratted slavery spells. His thoughts weren't even his own.

The day wore on most depressingly.

Harry discovered many a wondrous creature that he'd never heard of before and was quite certain the wizarding world hadn't known about. Such as Naga also known as snake-women, mermaids that actually looked the part, sentient dragons, dragons that were no bigger than a house cat, and a various many humanoid creatures that were obviously not human such as the deerlike woman who reminded him of a centuar. The Gorgon was the only thing he recognized. He even saw vampires, although the wizarding world knew about those.

Everyone there was either buy or selling or being sold. Vampire's bought vampires, a dragon transformed into a wizard and bought a dozen veela. Muggles were even here, and were sold at the cheapest prices. The acromantula went within three hours.

The only thing that wasn't being sold was house elves. In fact Harry was the only one there and he didn't see a single other of his kind. Which was probably a good thing he tried to convince himself, but wasn't quite successful. It was an awful thing the be the only member of your species present.

An auction started three or four hours in and Harry amused himself by guessing what would be bought for how much and by whom. He wasn't often right.

It was when he saw Severus Snape that he finally sat up and took notice.

It was the most impossible thing. Snape? He was _dead_. The thrice-damned bloody _bastard _was supposed to be dead! Harry had gone to his funeral! He nearly bloody cried over his grave. How dare he live and not tell him! As soon as he got out of here Harry was going to _kill _him!

Pain as hot at the Cruciatus Curse overtook him and he wailed most pitifully. Piss and sod! He was sorry. He promised to never kill anyone as long as it'd stop! It took a long time to stop. When he could move he looked for Snape. He moaned and scanned the crowd frantically.

But there was no Snape.

The heartless bastard must be made of stone! Harry grumbled trying to catch his breath. His stomach rumbled and he wondered when the last time he ate was? A day? Longer? What did house elves eat anyway? Dobby had never told him. Winky had drunk butterbeer but that wasn't really food. And how dare Snape not notice him when he was bloody screaming his head off not two feet away. How dare that heartless, greedy, spineless, greasy, git of a son of a bit-

"I'm afraid we only have one, left, sir." Whined a slimy voice slightly to his left. "But this one is the best we've had in years. The youngest I've ever seen in all my time in the trade. House Elves are so hard to come by. Most stay in families and, of course you know, they can't have children. Its a mystery where they come from. The youngest one in my record books is 267."

"Enough." Snapped a harsh voice and Harry finally ceased his internal rant. "Whats' wrong with it?"

"Wrong with it?" The slimy voice seemed to sharpen with panic. "There's nothing wrong with it! It's merely sleeping! Ah, wait let me disengage the spells." A red glow lit the bars of the cage briefly. "Oy, you slave! Get up!" The voice was harsh and still slimy but the order was clear, and it seemed this one he had to obey.

Putting on his fiercest glare he got to his feet and stared at the owner of the slimy voice. Hmm how apt. It was an oily looking man. He also resembled a rat. Harry knew better than to do or think anything that might cause a punishment but he stared at the man and kept his mind carefully blank hoping to unnerve him. Harry had learned how to do that with Ministry snobs and those sycophantic arse kissers he was regularly forced to mingle with. It usually got to them eventually. Especially if he didn't blink.

"How much." The familiar voice interrupted their starring contest and the slimy rat man glanced away first causing Harry to cheer. He finally turned his eyes to the one he wanted to see the most. Severus Snape.

He looked the same as he always had. Perhaps a bit paler and, hmm, was his hair clean? And best of all he was _alive_. The man was dressed in black robes that fell the the floor, and they were nice robes too. Edged in blue and gold strangely enough but it was still the same Snape. All sneers and shadows and biting tongue. Currently he was raking the slimy rat man across the coals.

"-although perhaps your miniscule brain can't appreciate such talent. Something simpler more to your taste? If I were to drill screws into your thumbs and hang you in my dungeons perhaps you'd learn to never _insult my intelligence again._"

Harry wavered between cheering Snape on and mourning the fact he'd missed the beginning.

"So sorry sir," The slimy rat man simpered anxiously. "_Five _thousand. I, of course meant five thousand."

"Did you know ashwinder venom is tasteless. Used in many poisons yes but did you know it's quite lethal on it own? A drop in a glass of water and it could be consumed without notice. Shall I list the effects of the poison?"

The slimy rat man paled. "Please sir, I can't go lower. I'd not get what I paid for it you understand. This one is also quite young, why your great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren will be tended by this magnificent creature baring any unforeseen killings of course. And it's eyes! Have you ever seen a house elf with eyes like that! Witchcraft sir. Pure magic-" The slimy rat man continued to blather on about nonsense which Harry ignored when he noticed Snape doing so.

Snape met his eyes and Harry saw him pale. Oh. His eyes. Harry had forgotten. Poor Snape.

Snape's black eyed glittered with an unnamed emotion. He stood staring into Harry's eyes so long he suspected Leglimency. In fact that would be perfect! Snape would look inside his head and find out it was Harry and he'd take him away. Give him clothes! Harry ignored the horrified twinge in his house elf gut. He find Hermione and she'd turn him back and he'd be free! And then he could sit down and have a nice long talk with Snape now that he was alive!

But Snape had turned away. And no! He was leaving. _Without _Harry!

"Find me another, with normal eyes if you please. Owl when you have it. My address is-"

"Sir, house elves are very rare. Most are kept in families and killed once their too old to follow orders in order to keep that family's secrets. It might be months or even years before we get another-"

Harry nearly snarled and decided to to it all himself. After all he had to do something to get the slimy rat man to _shut up _about killing house elves and Snape to listen to him damn it!

"Master!" Harry shouted in his high elf voice. Snape stiffened. "Please, good gentle sir!" Where the bloody hell had that come from? "Don't leave Paddy! I's-" Bad grammar Harry! Snape won't appreciate that! "I'd be a good elf, clean and cook and obey very quick!" Snape handed the slimy rat man a floo card. "I like sleeping in cupboards!" He shouted frantically. Which was a lie. After all the spells they'd put on him you'd think they'd come up with one to prevent lying. But Snape wasn't listening. He was walking away. Harry gasped and felt tears pooled and fall. This couldn't be happening. Snape couldn't leave him dammit! It was worse than when Sirius died. . .

Something anything, to make him stay. "I speak snake-tongue, Master!" Snape stopped but didn't turn around. Harry actually sobbed in relief. "I speak it and they talk back and I find snakes very nice--" When they're not threatening to bite you. "I can speak to them for you, sir. Please don't leave Paddy all alone."

Harry was actually on his knees, begging to be Snape's slave. Merlin, his father must be rolling in his grave. "I like to plant things sir." This was his last chance. "I like lilies."

Snape slowly turned around, looking at him most strangely. Harry held his breath. He hoped it had been enough.

Snape whirled on the slimy rat man. "Two thousand. And not a penny more!"

The rat man's eyes widened. "He's a Parselmouth, Sir!"

Snape sneered. "Three thousand then."

The slimy rat man glanced once between Harry and Snape trying to decide if it was a good deal.

Drat the blasted punishments! Harry whirled on the slimy rat man. "_If you don't sell me to the snape man i will have the next snake i see swallow you whole, rat man!_" Harry hissed in Parseltongue watching the man pale drastically.

As the punishment overtook him Harry watched the slimy rat man agree hastily, shooting him frightened looks. The pain rolled through him and overwhelmed everything. He was sure he was screaming before a harsh voice snapped stupefy and the world went dark once again.

**Thank you for all the kind reviews. **

**If it was unclear harry gets a little high from following direct **_**orders**_** not just cleaning. It won't be mentioned much anymore, it's just there so you understand why harry acts all house elf like. Just keep it in mind when you question harry's silliness. **

**Fitful**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh and in case you didn't notice, Snape's full of it. He doesn't mean anything he says, he likes to lie to himself a lot, so what he said about Americans, in no way reflects my point of view towards them, (I am one don't cha know.) and really doesn't say much beyond the fact that Snape is a grumpy git whose full of it. IT being crap. **

**warning: **here harry lies.

**C**hapter **E**ight

Snape had bought himself a house elf.

For a sum of three bloody thousand galleons!

The thing was not a normal sized house elf. It stood quite a bit taller than any he'd seen before, but much shorter than any person except perhaps Flitwick. It also had longish white hair and large green eyes. It spoke Parseltongue.

It was not a normal house elf.

Upon reflection he suspected the thing was Potter actually. With his mysterious disappearance and the oddities of this new house elf there were far to many coincidences. Now the question was, was it a prank, or had Potter managed to piss someone off enough that they'd go to this amount trouble for revenge? It must have been quite a feat transfiguring Potter into this creature. And he wasn't affected by the imperious so that left that out.

Snape supposed the only way to know was to ask him.

But just in case Potter was faking it all, in order to get him alone, perhaps seek revenge for Dumbledore or something stupidly Gryffindor like that, Snape had placed him in one of the holding cells in his dungeons. He'd had to play with the wards in order to adjust them to hold a house elf but he'd managed. Now was the time to wake Potter up.

After casting _ennervate _Snape waited patiently. Finally the Potter elf groaned.

It was a long moment before his eyes opened. Nothing could coincidentally look like Potter's eyes. Like Lily's eyes. Potter blinked and then blinked again before looking at him quite befuddled. Snape wondered if that meant Potter still needed glasses in this state. He'd be the first house elf with them that was for sure.

"What is your name, elf?" Snape snapped out the question like a whip.

The Potter elf answer rather quickly. For a Potter anyway. "Paddy, sir. What's yous- your name, Master?"

Snape took his time contemplating his answer. If he said he was Severus Snape then perhaps he could get a reaction out of the boy, but if he waited to catch Potter out, then eventually he would. Potter always made mistakes like that. The boy couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"I go by Salem L. Rose, elf. You may address me as,-" He paused. He truly didn't like the title of _master_. Snape sneered Too many bad memories. But perhaps if he made Potter use it, the boy would get angry. An angry Potter was one that made mistakes. "Master." Snape waited for a reaction, searching those heart-breaking green eyes for any emotion. The only thing he detected was relief and he cursed the fact that magical creatures were immune to Legilimency.

Of course if Potter wasn't really a house elf then it would be the perfect test.

Carefully, gently so as not to let Potter know he reached out in a way so familiar it was second nature to him. A sixth sense if you will. But there was nothing behind the green eyes. Nothing but a solid wall of an alien mind. Grimacing Snape pulled away.

Perhaps it really was a house elf, then. But what kind of coincidence would that be?

"You will follow all my orders, elf. You will not lie to me. Agree." He made them demands.

Paddy blinked once at him before smiling sweetly. "I's a good house elf, master. Never lie to you. Never disobey."

There wasn't a sign of hesitation or deception. The dratted creature looked as innocent as a lamb!

"Then get up, elf" Snape snapped in irritation. "Lying about on the floor won't get any work done. I won't have a lazy elf about."

The elf, that may or may not be Potter, had scrambled to his feat before his sentence was done, and stood swaying before him. Snape snorted. Potter and his theatrics.

"Tell me, elf, is Paddy your real name?"

The elf's eyes never blinked. "Paddy is my name, Master."

Snape felt his face twitch. "Have you ever gone by another name?"

"Yes, Master." The elf looked at him cautiously for the first time.

Snape waited. "Well?" He finally snapped. "What is it."

The elf grimaced sadly and looked down. "Freak, Master."

Snape froze. That was not what he expected. Who would have called Potter that? Muggles perhaps? Ah. Tunie. His muggle aunt. Petunia Dursley her name was now. Perhaps she had said it to the boy, in a fit of anger. She had called him freak once but as she had never called Lily that he had decided it must have been reserved for him.

Finally Snape blinked away from his memories and looked at the elf who was waiting very patiently. Another unPotter like trait.

"Have you ever gone by another name?" Snape asked this time softly surprising himself.

"Yes."

It was like pulling dragon teeth. "And what was it?"

The elf didn't answer this time. Instead he swayed and his green eyes grew glassy.

"Elf!" Snape snapped. "Answer me!"

Tears welled up. "I'm sorry, Master! I can't obey. Paddy is a bad elf!" A hand reached up and twisted an ear and the elf gasped at the pain that produced.

For Merlin's sake. "_Why _can't you obey and answer me, elf?"

Tears spilled again and Snape shifted uncomfortably. "I's can't be telling elf secrets, Master." The answer was very faint. "Spell hurt me."

Snape sighed. "Enough. I release you from that order." Immediately the color came back to the elf's face, a faint pale green, where on a human it would have been pink. More inconsistencies. The elf stopped swaying.

He really didn't want to give away his suspicions but perhaps it was the only way to go about it.

"Have you heard of Harry Potter?" The house elf looked wary again and not at all worshipful like others he had met. Snape frowned. Surely if this was Potter he'd _try _to play the part.

"I have heard of Harry Potter, Master." Green eyes looked into his.

Snape scowled and sneered and tried to look stern. "And have you ever gone by the name of Harry Potter, elf?"

For a moment the elf swayed, then he stood up straight and firmly shook his head. "No, Master." He said softly.

Snape took a deep breath and breath out through his nose, feeling his nostrils flare. "Have you ever been Harry Potter, elf?"

With much more confidence the elf answered smartly this time. "No, Master."

Snape tried one last time. "Are you Harry Potter, elf?"

But the elf was shaking his head. "No, Master."

Snape breathed out a frustrated sigh. This was obviously a real house elf. Drat and blast it. The spells used to bind it to him should have convinced him of that. Those spells couldn't have been used on a wizard, transfigured or not. He had made a mistake. The bloody house elf had better not make him apologize!

"I am aware these questions, were odd." Snape couldn't look a the house elf especially not at those eyes. "Harry Potter is missing, you might not know, and I wanted to be sure." He finally looked at the elf. "Do you understand?"

The house elf, Paddy was it? nodded enthusiastically. "I's understand, Master."

Snape nodded as well. He self consciously glanced around the cell. They could be quit of it he supposed. And perhaps have a meal. He could use a spot of - well never mind that now. Perhaps later. Once the elf was asleep. Did elves even sleep?

Snape peered at the elf. "Do you sleep, el-Paddy?"

The elf broke into a small grin. "Regularly, Master."

Snape nodded. "And I suppose you eat as well?"

The elf's eyes grew wary. "When I'm given food, Master."

Snape snorted.

"Your kind seem to punish yourselves sufficiently enough that I need not withhold food, elf."

The elf snorted too and then smiled. Snape stared a minute too long before he turned abruptly away. Unlocking the spells and the door Snape motioned the elf to step out of the cell.

"Food and sleep, elf." Snape nodded his approval when the elf seemed hesitant to step out. "Work can wait til tomorrow."

"Yes, Master." The elf was a very agreeable sort. Snape could get used to this. Snape set off down the dungeon hall way heading back towards the potion's lab. The elf tagged along without being told.

"You might try calling me, Master S-Rose. Master Rose, elf, if you wish."

The elf shook his head sadly. "I's should call you Master, Master. 'Tis whats proper."

Ah. Snape puzzled over that for a moment. What exactly is proper for a house elf?

Well with spells keeping elf secrets err secret the world may never know.

**Ahh. There is the other line i stole. Not sure who this one belongs to but it's not mine. **

**Thanks for the reviews, although I don't know how you think my story is funny. I laugh when I read it but I never expect other people to get my sense of humor. Now chapter Twenty One is hilarious, if I do say so myself.**

**Fitful**


	9. Chapter 9

**warning:**here harry's on his knees begging. again.

**C**hapter **N**ine

**S**nape wore a glamour.

It wasn't much different from the way Harry remembered Snape looking except for the fact that it seemed to make all the difference. Snape still had black hair, black eyes, a thin frame and a constant sneer but the glamour seemed to change everything. Snape didn't look so pointy. He didn't look sallow either, which may have just been better diet or lack of excruciating weekly torture sessions. His hair wasn't greasy but that could have been due to more baths.

He just looked different. Harry couldn't explain it. In fact Harry was positive that if Snape had stood in front Harry and shouted he was Severus Snape a month ago Harry would have laughed in his face. The glamour was one that was subtle but impenetrable, perfect for a Slytherin. Harry wished he knew the incantation for it. Having a glamour like is something Harry would have cheerfully killed over during those days just after Voldy's demise.

Harry was beginning to like Snape.

It was rather a scary thought. But now that he knew what motivated him, what was the driving factor behind the man, he could view Snape in a whole different light.

Snape had loved his mother. He had loved her so much he switched sides for her, not that he had had much motivation to stay what with Voldy being as sadistic sort of fellow. He had risked his life for her. He had protected her son, who was also the son of his childhood bully, for _her_.

As a house elf Harry found himself quite prone to crying. It was annoying, and rather exhausting. When thinking of Snape lately Harry wanted to cry. And not for the same reasons he would have had as a student. Harry wanted cry because it was so goddamn unfair Snape got such a raw deal. Look, here he was, one of the key factors in Voldy's defeat, and he was hiding behind an assumed name and a glamour. He should have been pardoned and showered with at least half the accolades Harry received.

Harry was well aware that his new status as Snape's house elf might be the reason he was suddenly prone to ranting poetically on about justice for his master but he didn't really care. It was all true after all.

And it turned out Snape was a nice master. After the Durlseys, Harry felt he was qualified to judge. Hermione didn't know what she was talking about, giving house elves their freedom. Harry had never been happier then he found he was a Briarwood Cottage. And it hadn't been a day!

Snape had led Harry out of the dungeons, and through his rather impressive potions lab, admonishing Harry err Paddy, on pain of death to not ever touch anything without express instructions to do so. He had then proceeded to make _Harry _dinner instead of making his new house elf cook. Such a nice master he had, really.

Then, after a really fantastic meal, he had given Harry an actual room, and _not _a cupboard. Harry had been so touched that he'd actually cried, and Snape had awkwardly patted his head once before hastily making an exit.

Harry liked to think it had been a manly, silent display of tears, but that was wishful thinking.

Lying on the soft bed that was pleasantly large Harry couldn't help but think of Snape. It really must be those orders taking hold. Hadn't Bryn ordered him to love his master?

The puzzling thing was Harry hadn't thought about Ginny since this whole ordeal began. Guilt began to creep in. Poor Ginny. She was home, alone, pregnant and more than likely worried sick. He'd been missing how long? Long enough for Snape to find out about it. Hmm, Snape.

Wrong! Ginny. He'd been thinking about Ginny.

The mystery of her disappearances wouldn't be solved anytime soon. Harry would have to wait until he was human again. Then he'd sit her down and talk with her. Find out what was so terribly wrong that she thought she had to hide it. They'd work it out and the baby would get born and then he would make Snape godfather . . .

Drat. He was thinking about Snape again. Damn the bloody git. He couldn't stay dead and he wouldn't let Harry think in bloody peace.

Oh but he was a rather nice master. Feeding Harry. Giving Harry a bedroom. Even the Dursleys hadn't done that.

The tricky thing had been answering Snape's questions truthfully.

Snape was so clever. He'd discovered Harry was Harry right quick. And then asking about names, forbidding Paddy-err _Harry _to lie to him. Pity about the name thing though. That could have worked if Bryn hadn't taken precautions. But asking if he was Harry Potter! That had been genius. If only he hadn't made one crucial mistake. He'd asked 'Are you Harry Potter, e_lf_?' That had been the way Harry had squirmed out of all the spells and orders binding him. Addressing him as elf, meant he was asking the elf if he was Harry Potter. Which he wasn't. He _had _been Harry Potter, once. When he was _human_.

And that was all it took to get around Snape orders.

Harry was such a bad house elf. So sneaky. So Slytherin. Hmm. Perhaps, if Snape ever found out he wouldn't be too mad. He, after all, approved of Slytheriny behavior.

* * *

The soft blue glow of morning would have awoken him if Snape hadn't done it first.

Actually it did seem as if Snape was trying to not wake him. Which was very odd indeed. Why come see the house elf if you didn't need it for something? Which by deduction proved Snape did need something. His _Master _needed something. And so Harry was obligated to get up and get it for him.

It was the soft touch to his arm that startled him into actually jerking awake, rather than sleepily opening his eyes as he'd planned. Harry opened his eyes, noticing being an elf was a rather good deal if his vision was this good in such little light, and found Snape's black ones. Snape, it seemed, had jerked back as well when Harry woke, and now was looking curiously guilty. As if his hand had been caught in a cookie jar.

That would make Harry the cookie. He didn't know how felt about that.

"Master?" Harry murmured in his high, child-like elf voice. "Yous- Do you need, Paddy?"

Snape looked incredibly tempted by that statement for a long moment before he was suddenly Snape again all scowls and sneers.

"Obviously, elf, or I wouldn't be here!" His statement had quite a bit of a bite to it, which hurt Harry's sensitive elf feelings. Harry felt his ears droop. He so wanted to please Master Snapey . . .

"Do not cry, elf." Snape snapped. "That's an order. I can't abide small things crying at the drop of a hat."

It was very hard to obey that order but as it was an order Harry managed. "What does Master be wanting from Paddy?"

Glittering black eyes stared down at Harry for a long moment. Then he turned away. "Breakfast." He snapped as he ducked out the door.

Harry blinked in bewilderment. Snape was very weird. Perhaps dying did that to a person. Harry frowned as he climbed out of bed and methodically made it. If he actually died. Perhaps he'd been faking it. That would just be like Snape. And he would have laughed while observing Harry at his funeral, perhaps rubbing his hands together in glee at finally pulling one over on Harry Potter.

In a bit of a grumpy mood caused by imagining that scenario Harry entered the kitchen, which was just off his room. Actually his door was connected directly to the pantry and the pantry to the kitchen without another entrance. How was he supposed to get out when the pantry was locked?

Oh. Stupid, Harry. Magic of course. House elves had magic.

Hmm. He did remember now. When he called on his magic before it had come up from the ground. Odd. Did that make house elves earth elementals? Hermione would be delighted to find that out. She was always going on and on about how terrible it was that elemental magic was extinct.

Experimentally Harry called up his magic. It was a bit awkward without a wand, but Harry had managed before, so he concentrated and felt the answering tug of magic from below. Slowly, much slower than when he'd been in The Devil's Crown, the magic respond. Finally after much work, it seeped up through the floor and sort of traveled up through Harry's feet.

Did house elves use spells? Harry didn't know. Apparently they could use spells, and a wand although they weren't allowed to by the Ministry. But when using their magic, for everyday activity, did they use spells. Incantations? If Harry used a Latin incantation, one wizards use, would he get in trouble?

Was he even allowed to ask another house elf? What with the spells binding to secrecy would he be able to get the words past his mouth? Would the house elf he asked be able to answer?

Snape came in while Harry was trying to decide. Harry turned his head to meet his master's eyes just as Snape frowned. Oh no. He'd begged for this job. He promised to be a good elf! And now his master was going to be disappointed! And wouldn't be able to tell him why. Damn the blasted spells!

"Is something wrong , elf?" Snape asked looking around the kitchen suspiciously.

Harry's ear drooped further. In frustration he reached up and twisted on viciously, trembling at how much it hurt! Tears spilled over, he couldn't stop them, but they weren't from the pain, not really. They were from how bad he felt at having to disappoint his master again!

"Perhaps you didn't understand the meaning of breakfast?" Snape snarled rather wearily.

Harry shook his head unable to answer. Snape sighed again. Then, proving he did have a heart and Harry had been right about him being secretly nice, he started breakfast. Harry was quick to join in when he saw Snape doing everything pretty much the muggle way. There was a summoning spell that called in a few apples from outside. And after Harry had taken over the skillet and fried up eggs Snape set it to wash itself in the sink. Harry actually took over the tea as well, boiling water, letting the leave steep before straining them, slicing a lemon Snape had also called from outside.

It was actually rather silent. Snape let Harry decide what he wanted to do and Harry let his new elf instincts take over and do everything the way he knew how. When Snape sat down to breakfast it was a satisfied Harry that stood back and nodded at him. Snape stared at him for a long moment and Harry fidgeted. Would he ask about the magic now? Would he call Harry a bad elf. Order a punishment? Perhaps punish Harry himself. Harry's hand crept up to his ear.

Snape scowled at him. "There's too much for me to eat by myself, elf!" He growled and motioned for Harry to sit down. Harry's eyes watered with gratitude but he didn't cry although he thanked Snape carefully.

Snape summoned a second plate and moved an egg onto it. The breakfast ended up divided between them. Harry discovered house elves loved sweet things, fruits, scones with clotted cream, jams, juice. Snape made him eat the egg though, and Harry obeyed but found the taste not what it used to be. Perhaps he'd made a mistake in cooking it? Snape seemed to like it though so he didn't apologize. Snape didn't seem to appreciate his thanks or apologies.

Once the last bite had been finished Snape ordered Harry to clear the table and put the food away, which Harry did while Snape finished his tea and read the Daily Prophet an owl brought. Once Harry finished he went to clear up the tea thing but Snape growled at him to sit a moment.

"Does it seem to me, elf, that you are unable to use magic?" His eyes pierced Harry's and Harry sighed.

"Yes, Master." He answered very carefully.

Snape muttered something about squib house elves before replying. "Do you have magic, elf?"

Harry's eye widened. "Yes, Master!" He squeaked. "Of course!"

Snape eyed him appraising. "But you don't know how to use it?"

Harry's ears drooped and he didn't answer. He wasn't sure he'd be able to and getting punished with that spell in Snape's presence seemed counterproductive.

Snape scowled. "How old are you exactly, elf?" He snapped.

Harry's eyed widened. How old was he? 21? He opened his mouth to say so but felt the stirrings of the punishment spell and closed it. Snape was watching him very carefully and he had to say something. He was changed when? How long had he been an elf? He could have been asleep for days, perhaps weeks! Ah. That felt much more likely. How long had he been asleep in a cage? A week? Two?

"A week, Master." Harry answered very slowly, ready to stop if the spells did anything. "I think, Master."

Snape hissed but didn't seem enraged. Just very, err, put out. He began muttering in Japanese of all things, something about children and how they should all be drown. Harry eyed him warily after that.

Suddenly Snape stood and stalked out of the room, snapping at Harry to clean up. Sighing Harry did as he was told, although with him not knowing how to use his magic he was forced to wash the rest of the dishes by hand. Not that it mattered. He was quite used to it.

It really wasn't his fault. He hadn't asked for this. And he really wasn't as young as he appeared! A week old indeed. He wouldn't be able to talk if he were only a week old, house elf or no! After all his experience being a house elf at the Dursleys Harry was quite sure he could do the job without magic anyway! It just wasn't fair! Harry seethed. He was just as good as any other house elf! Snape had better not sell him!

Suddenly Harry heard a familiar voice and he went nearly white with panic.

Lucius Malfoy. Snape was going to give him to Lucius Malfoy! Not him. Anyone but him. Harry was a good house elf! He'd do anything Snape asked. He couldn't sell Harry to the sadistic, abusive, Dobby hating Lucius Malfoy! It'd be like asking Voldey to please come back and have tea! Oh and while you're here please feel free to _crucio_ Harry Potter who is so conveniently helpless!

Harry was hyperventilating by the time Snape came back, there were tears and snot running down his face, and he was trembling worse than he did after the Cruciatius. Snape looked at him, scowled and sighed, as if the weight of the world was on him.

"What now, elf?"

Harry couldn't help himself. House elf instinct was to strong and pride be damned! He wouldn't' get sold to Lucius Malfoy. Wailing he threw himself down at Snape's feet. "Please, Master, don't sells Paddy. Paddy's a good elf! He truly is! He can cook and clean and will learn the magic." His large hand made a fist in Snape's black robes. "I's even have punishment everyday, please don't sell me's to Master Lucius Malfoy, he's not nice like Master is! I's do anything, anything Master be wanting." He was hiccoughing hard enough to choke.

Snape abruptly jerked his robes away. "_Enough_, elf!" He ordered and Harry felt silent although the tears and sobs didn't abate. "I am not going to sell you!" He snarled and Harry gasped in relief. "Although after this display I should, you pathetic sniveling dunderhead!"

Harry looked up at him, tears blurring Snape into a black sneering blob. "Ohs, I will stop, Master. I's going be so good, Master. I's do anything for you. Please don't sell, Paddy!" Relief and lingering anxiety made Harry limp with exhaustion. He crawled closer to Snape and rubbed his head on Snape's robes. They were so soft against the raw skin of his face.

"For Slytherin's sake, elf." Snape snarled sound seriously disturbed. "I'm not selling you!"

Harry hiccoughed. "Thank you, Master." He whispered, head still buried in Snape's robes. It occurred to him this position, as well as the title Harry addressed Snape as, might be too reminiscent of certain death eater meetings where Snape didn't play such a- err- _dominant _role. As exhausted as Harry was he didn't really care. In fact at that moment he didn't care if he never moved again and just remained Snape's house elf forever.

It was actually a long while before Snape moved away. By the time he did Harry had reigned in his emotions and was able to stand without swaying when ordered to get up. Rubbing his dry raw face Harry kept his eyes on Snape hoping this time to please him. Snape snorted as he observed Harry but didn't comment.

"I contacted Lucius Malfoy, _not _to sell you, you stupid thing, but to ask for one of his house elves to spend the week here, training you." Snape eyed Harry warily as if certain Harry would do something outrageous and embarrassing.

Harry's eyes had widened with the explanation and then closed when Snape had finished. Snape had done that for him. He'd asked Malfoy for a favor, something he'd no doubt have to repay, because of _Harry_.

"Now I suggest you clean your face, elf, and make a room ready for our guest." Snape waited until Harry nodded before sneering once and turning away.

"Thank you, Master." Harry called quietly as Snape left but he wasn't sure the man heard. Shuddering from the aftermath of his- err his _histrionics_,Harry shook his head. It was official. The world must be ending, how else could he explain it?

Harry Potter adored Severus Snape. And he didn't think it was just the slavery spells.

**Sorry it's so late in the day. I just wanted to go over it and weed out any errors. Also my cat pulled out her stitches and had to go back to the vet today. Busy day. Anyhoo . . .**

**I thought it a good idea to get Harry over all those I-Hate-Snape hurdles with a few slavery spells. It makes the story much shorter when you don't have to have him overcome his issues with Snape **_**and **_**Snape overcome his issues with Harry all in a few weeks. In fact the issues that do get overcome aren't the usual ones, and you really don't see either of them suffering from their hatred of each other. It all just goes away. Oh well. Poetic license and all that jazz.**

**Fitful**

**ps: I do thank you for the reviews but could you either make them longer or take a picture of your face and send it to me so I can see how you really feel? Just the words **_**Good Story**_** doesn't really capture it, other than to make me smile in humble pleasure. Or better yet read the story while taping your reactions to an mp3 audio, that way I can hear your comments, laughter, and tears: as well as how many times you curse me.**

**Or you don't have to. I'll just have to imagine all the fanfic readers as I look at Story Traffic and wonder . . . **


	10. Chapter 10

**warning:**here harry learns magic

**C**hapter **T**en

Goby the house elf was the snobbiest house elf Harry had every met.

Not that he'd met very many mind you. But honestly, he was quiet full of himself and used a rather large vocabulary as if that would make up for his I's and yous and referring to himself in the third person. Apparently he was Lucius's _personal _house elf and Lucius was the only thing he ever had to worry about. Harry winced when he heard that, certain Snape would have a very large favor to pay Malfoy one day.

Currently Goby was sneering at Harry's attire.

"Yous outfitted in such Gryffindor robes, yous poor Master must despair whenever he is forced to look upon yous, elf." Goby himself was garbed in a fine green robe made of handkerchiefs and rags. It was actually rather pretty but Harry pretended not to notice it.

"Bryny, my first Mistress, provided these clothes." Harry informed Goby, careful with pronunciation. "I am very grateful to have such nice ones."

Goby sneered. "Yous must have been very _disappointing _slave to have been given clothes so quickly, elf." Ah. That was another thing. Apparently Goby thought only he was worthy of a name. Other elves were merely referred to as elf. Or in Harry's case slave. Goby tried to fit the word in at least every other sentence.

Harry sneered in return. "I'm curious, how long was it before you left your first master, House Elf Goby?"

Goby stared at him with large blue eyes slitted into a glare. "Longer than a week, I's sure, elf."

Harry snorted, quite disbelievingly.

"If you had stayed longer, yous would _know _how to use elf magic already, and yous Master wouldn't be so _displeased_." It was quite obvious this house elf was a Slytherin. Or belonged to one anyway. He knew just the thing to say to make Harry's little elf heart twist and tears pool in his eyes.

Harry gritted his teeth and resisted the temptation to bite Goby. "I'd know if you'd _tell _me already, House Elf Goby." He practically snarled.

It had been a week. Goby had come, listened very politely to Snape instructions to teach Harry err _Paddy _everything he ought to know, and proceeded to make it utter torture.

Not the physical kind, of course, but he insisted on watching Harry do everything the muggle way first. And so Harry had cleaned. The entire bloody house! From top to bottom, every nook, cranny, and hidey-hole except the potions lab which Snape had disappeared into and forbidden either of them to enter. Harry hadn't even seen him for meals, as Goby would watch him prepare each one then snap his fingers and send if off to Snape. Goby was so attentive in his watching Harry, Harry had decided Aunt Petunia and him must have been kin.

Goby also refused to actually teach Harry elf magic. He merely told Harry to do it and stood their sneering as Harry failed again and again. For Merlin's sake Harry couldn't even manage elf apparition! Harry had taken to plotting Goby's long and painful demise, laughing with glee that he could contemplate violence against another house elf without a single twinge of pain.

But today was the day Goby was set to leave. And Harry still hadn't learned elf magic. He was going to disappointing Snape _again_. Snape had even gotten him a tutor and been so nice and now he was going to _hate _Harry and sell him and Harry was going to wind up working for some Bellatrix Lestrange clone and die never getting to see Hermy or Won or Ginny or SNAPEY ever ever again!

Suddenly furious Harry turned a lethal gaze on Goby. "If you don't tell me, immediately, I will tell your precious Master Lucius you _failed_." He hissed spitefully and watched as Goby paled a bit.

"It not be _Arithmancy_, elf." Goby sneered. "Yous should know by _now_."

"Well I don't," Harry growled.

Goby simply stared at him as if he were Snape and Harry was Neville or well _Harry_. Suddenly he leaned forward, until he was close enough kiss if Harry had any inclination to do so. And his eyes seemed to bleed for a moment, the brilliant blue color they usually were fading to be replaced with gold flecked violet.

"_You should know you will never go back to who you were before."_The words were twisted and half sung and said in a language Harry had never heard before but could understand in his very soul.

"I know." He whispered back anger forgotten in the wake of awe.

"_Your magic is knowledge and life and soul and everything, elf slave. You do know how to use it. As you know this tongue, as you know your name, as you know when your Master is sad or happy or __**hungry**__."_The violet was fading now, bleeding away as blue shined through. "_You must find the knowledge and embrace it. Be the elf you have become. Infinite power, knowledge, life is yours but only within the boundaries of a slave. This is the price we pay, and we do it gladly. No one will ever know magic as we do."_

And with that the violet was gone and with a parting sneer and a snap Goby was too.

It took Harry a long moment before he remembered how to breathe.

* * *

Later Harry was outside weeding.

His mind stubbornly refused to focus on what Goby had told him. It drifted off and thought of Snape and Ginny and flobberworms and a little disturbing fantasy about shagging the minister before it would focus on what Harry wanted to think about.

House elves were far more than they seemed.

Harry wondered if Merlin got turned into a house elf. Shaking his head Harry stubbornly decided to deal with it. Goby had hinted that Harry should already _know _how to use house elf magic. A bit later he had mentioned embracing that knowledge and the fact he was a house elf.

But what would that do? Would he still be Harry? Would he remember his past or would it all fade away? Would Harry be able to go back given the chance if he did this?

But what about Snape? If Harry didn't learn magic . . . Well Snape would be disappointed, which would lead to anxiety for Harry as his elf, but he wouldn't be harmed. Harry could be his house elf without magic. Snape was so nice Harry really didn't think he'd sack him. And eventually Snape would have to seek out Hermione for something and she would see Paddy's eyes and her brain would fit things together and she'd free him and turn him back into a human.

And Snape would be alone. Harry would go back to Ginny and leave Snape to himself. Harry really didn't like the idea of Snape being alone. Someone should be here to take care of him. Harry frowned. Was that _Harry _talking or the spells? Did it matter? It was true.

Did that mean Harry was going to do it? Risk never going back, never being Harry again? He thought of the look on Snape's face when Harry said he liked lilies. **Yes**. Yes he was. He needed magic. What if the ministry were to ever find out about Snape? They'd storm in here and carry him off and as Harry was currently a house elf they would be unlikely to listen to him. There would be no one to speak for him. Harry _needed _his magic. To protect Snape.

Harry closed his eyes. The world glowed behind his eyelids. Breathing deeply Harry called up his magic. As he was outside it came faster this time, almost eagerly, as if it knew what he intended. The magic when it swirled into view was gold and green. Glorious. Brilliant. Harry had never thought seeing magic would be noteworthy but he was wrong. There were world's written in the magic's hues.

"_I embrace what I am."_Harry whispered shuddering as a piece of magic slammed into him. "_I embrace the elven ways."_Another tendril slipped inside him. "_I embrace the knowledge and the life I will live for the sake of the magic." _Pain whispered around the edges of his vision but didn't press in. "_I declare I am the slave of Severus Snape._"

The magic filled him, his blood, his veins, his bones, and skin, and heartbeat. It overtook him and awoke hidden knowledge within his mind. Had that knowledge been there before? Had the magic left it there? Harry didn't know. All he knew was magic.

Then it fled. It retreated back into the ground, ready and waiting to be called on. Harry could barely breathe. But finally one thing made him stir. A bit of knowledge reaching his mind, snapping against his guilt like a whip. With determination Harry pushed himself to his feet, and pulled on a bit of magic that lingered near the ground.

It was time he started acting like a proper house elf. He had a very pressing duty to attend to.

Snape was hungry.

With a small pop he apparated to attend to his master.

**I gave hints: Hope you all are good guessers. **

**Goby will not be featured again. Like I said, oc's are only for moving plots along, not good permanent fixtures. (Fitful ignores the fact that she has two major oc's taking up a good deal of Saith) **

**Fitful**

**ps: I'm retracting what I said about reviews. I do not need reviews. I am perfectly content being pleased with my story all based on my own enjoyment. Reviews are for pushy authors who don't have confidence in their writing enough to objectively critique it. **

**(Fitful is often a hypocrite)**


	11. Chapter 11

**warning:** here harry gets drugged by snape　

**C**hapter **E**leven

Snape wanted his house elf.

He had bought the blasted thing for specific reasons. Then it turned out he'd bought a baby elf that didn't even know how to use magic. Snape sneered. That would teach him never to listen to Lucius Malfoy! Now the elf was off training with Lucius's elf and he'd seen neither hide nor hair of it for a week. More than likely it was off giggling about Lucius's choice in smalls or something.

And blast it all he was hungry! He was very very hungry. And he was sick too. Snape hated being sick. Being sick, meant being weak and Snape had had his fill of that.

His potion hissed and sputtered and Snape snarled at it. Hunger was the bane of his existence. It ruined his concentration and now another potion was wasted. Snape seethed as he banished the ruined contents and dragged the cauldron over to the sink for cleaning. He'd take out his bad temper on the pot and _not _interrupt his elf in his much needed lessons. Thank Merlin the dratted Malfoy elf would be going home today. Snape didn't like it's attitude at all.

Falling into scrubbing Snape cursed the fact that he'd ever left America. What he wouldn't give for the company of Felicity just now. He really needed to-

Pop! Snape stiffened at the sound. The blasted elf had sent him food again. If it weren't such well prepared, tasty stuff, Snape would find that thrice-damned elf and curse it until it screamed.

"Master!" Came the high voice of his own house elf and Snape whirled around in dismay. Wide green eyes were looking at the half-scrubbed caldron in horror. "Master, Paddy be very good at cleaning cauldron's! It's not proper for Master to clean when Paddy can do it!"

"What. Are. You. Doing. In. Here." Snape tried to keep very calm. He would not curse his house elf. It was bad form. Dumbledore would have disapproved. Miss Granger would have been horrified. Potter would-

"I's sorry, Master." The elf didn't look very sorry. "I's brought you lunch." He motioned to the table where another tray full of perfectly good food sat temptingly beneath warming spells. His very good sense of smell detected cream of spinach soup. His favorite. "I's also come to inform Master I's learn magic. I's a good house elf now."

Snape scowled at the elf's beaming face. "Very good, elf." He hissed. "Now get out!"

The elf didn't move. "Should Paddy scrub cauldrons, Master?"

Snape could feel his wand hand twitch. "No." He ground out.

The large green eyes traveled over him and took in his appearance. Snape snarled at it but it didn't seem fazed in the least. "GET OUT ELF!" He roared.

Fear crept into the beautiful green eyes but the elf stood its grounds, like a goddamn Gryffindor. "Master is not feeling well."

Snape sneered. "VERY good, elf. 50 points for Gryffindor. Now get out before I start casting Unforgivables." He was itching to hear the thing scream. To watch it writhe on the ground in pain. To see blood spill out its mouth and ears as important parts inside of it ruptured.

The elf crept closer. "Master should take a potion."

Snape's control broke. "Do you think I don't know that you stupid simple creature?" He hissed. "What do you think I've been doing! Dancing? Painting the ceiling, perhaps? Get out. GET OUT!" He grabbed the nearest thing at hand and chucked it at the elf with haunting eyes.

"And now that you can perform magic glamour your blasted eyes! Crucio!" Snape hissed the curse and red light sped across the room. But the elf had finally left and it dissipated harmlessly against the wall. It really wasn't fair.

He wanted his house elf back. Damn the thing for obeying him.

* * *

Something was wrong with Snape.

Even with as short a temper as Snape had he didn't blow up like that over _nothing_. And not over something so simple as a house elf intruding on his work space. Perhaps something had upset him.

But what could have upset him enough to throw Unforgivables around?

Harry put it out of his mind. He would figure it out sooner or later, he always did, and currently he had to much to do to worry about Snape being pissy. He used his new found knowledge to finish the chores. When it came time Harry made Snape dinner and sent it his way. Using magic with such ease gave him a thrill. The magic came swiftly now, eagerly into his hand. It came from the ground for the most part, but as Harry used it he started pulling it from the air as well. It was a glorious thing.

Harry didn't see Snape for two days.

Harry started setting up wards to pass the time. It seemed house elves were particularly talented with wards. He set up protection wards first. Protection against intruders, wizards, dark wizards, magical creatures, magical being, muggles. Those with ill intent would be harshly discouraged in their venture. Those who were just annoying would find themselves in France. He also set up wards against the ministry, undetectable ones. He wanted to make sure Snape would be safe.

Then he began setting up permanent charms, something wizards, as far as Harry knew, couldn't do. These were household charms. They did insured the laundry did itself, the dust and dirt banished itself, the lawn and gardens weeded themselves. Then there were charms to keep out pests and vermin, charms to keep things in their proper place. Snape like to leave his robes everywhere. Harry charmed them to put themselves away. He charmed things like clothes and beds and floors to stay the proper temperature. He charmed the loo's to clean themselves constantly. He charmed lists in the kitchen, to keep track of what was used in the way of household items and food. He was itching to make a similar list of Snape's potion ingredients.

Finally Harry had nothing to do. Everything was either done or getting done without direction from Harry. What did house elves do all day? It was incredibly boring just sitting around. It made it easier to worry about Snape.

If only the man would accept a little help. Harry wasn't the best at potions but he could prepare ingredients, clean cauldrons, sweep the bloody floor. Bah! Who was he kidding. He just wanted to see Snape. His master hadn't looked so good before and he refused to leave the dungeons. Harry had, of course, cast alarm charms. They'd alert him of any disaster, potions or illness or temper. Nothing had gone off.

There was only a nagging certainty that Snape needed him. But he couldn't' figure out what for.

Harry began dinner for the third day without Snape. He wanted to make something the man would like but didn't know what Snape preferred. What were his tastes? By the contents of the kitchen he was a vegetarian, which was odd as it didn't seem like a very Snape thing to be. But there was plenty of chicken and beef stock in the pantry and when he'd made a chicken soup a yesterday it had been eaten.

Harry started with lentils today. A nice soup was good for the cooling weather. Fall was alive and well and now and then Harry wondered if Ginny had had the baby yet. For the most part thoughts of his old life didn't intrude but with nothing else to do they did make an appearance.

A twinge of something like regret and hunger made Harry frown. Those didn't belong to Harry. He turned around.

Snape was in the door way.

"I am unwell occasionally." He announced almost nervously. "It would be best to stay out of my presence during those times as my temper can get most foul."

Harry shook his head frowning. He wasn't about to do that. Stupid Snape didn't know when to ask for help.

Snape suddenly looked stern. "_Yes_, elf! You will obey me on this if nothing else. Regardless of any contradicting orders you are to place yourself out of harms way when I'm in one of my," he sneered. "rages. I wouldn't want you to get hurt, accidentally."

How sweet Snape, and just what happens to _you _you're "sick"?

"After all, I paid much to high a sum to replace you easily." Snape shifted uncomfortably. "Agreed, elf?"

Harry felt mutinous but he didn't really have a choice. "Agreed, Master. As long as you are not in danger as well." Snape frowned at the addition but Harry turned back to the stove and adjusted the temperature to simmer. Cooking was really the only thing he had to occupy himself nowadays. Was this how housewives felt? Utterly useless? No wonder Ginny didn't want to become one.

"The house looks intact, elf." When Harry turned around Snape had seated himself at the kitchen table by the window. "I take it you learned your lessons well?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. Snape must feel very guilty if he was offering compliments and engaging in small talk. "Yes, Master. Lessons all learned. Magic very useful."

Snape snorted. "Indeed."

Harry brought him bread and butter. He'd made the bread himself, it was always better fresh anyway. Snape's eyes seem to close halfway on the first bite and Harry wanted to dance a gig.

"You are a very good cook, elf." Snape said when he'd finished his first piece. "Did Malfoy's elf teach you that?"

Harry snorted. Not hardly. Snape raised an eye brow. "No, Master." He was quick to answer. "Goby not teach much. Just magic."

Snape sneered. "I can believe that."

Dinner was quiet. Snape stayed until the last drop of lentil soup was gone, the last crumb of bread, and then stayed for pudding. Harry cleaned up and then brought Snape the papers he'd missed over the last two days. Snape raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Harry pretended to putter around the kitchen and mentioned the lists he'd made. Snape looked surprised and then intrigued. He queried Harry about what had kept him busy and looked impressed when Harry rambled on about the charms and wards.

Harry watched him when Snape wasn't looking. He didn't like what he saw. Snape looked exhausted. And sick. And like he wanted something but was afraid to ask. It worried Harry. What if Snape were dying. What he'd only stayed off the inevitable four years ago and now he was going to keel over any second? What if he'd been cursed by Voldy- er- Voldemort and it was incurable? What if he was in constant pain?

Finally there was nothing to do and nothing to talk about further with Snape. Harry could have offered his services in the dungeons again but thought it best to wait. He could have asked Snape what was wrong but didn't want to be sneered at and ignored again. Instead he sat with Snape quietly until Snape announced it bedtime.

"Will you be needing anything else, Master?" Harry inquired softly, trying to get the man to speak to him. Snape looked at him blankly before shaking his head and disappearing out the kitchen door.

Harry was usually tired that evening. Usually he took a walk through the gardens as the sun set, checking spells, wards, and just making sure everything was ship shape. But this night Harry could barely keep his eyes open long enough to lock up the house and fall in bed.

The last thing he thought before going to sleep was that Snape had been awfully sweet to pour him tea.

* * *

Harry awoke at midnight to find Snape in his bed.

Actually Snape was climbing out of Harry's bed. As if to imply that he'd been there for some time. Harry narrowed his eyes. What the bloody hell was Snape doing in his bed?

"Master?" Harry murdered aware his voice was thin, even for a house elf, and he was incredibly tired. "Yous want Paddy, Master?" He sat up with effort.

Snape's lips twitched for a moment before settling into an even line. "No, elf. I want you to sleep."

Harry just blinked at him. If he wanted him to sleep why was he here?

Snape stared at him a long moment before he walked back over to Harry and gently pushed him back down. Not a spoken order but one just the same Harry complied, despite his confusion. "Sleep, Paddy. As long at you like." There was the briefest touch to his head.

"Yous sick, Master?" Harry asked a bit worried. Snape telling him to sleep as long as he wanted? Inconceivable. "Need a potion?"

Snape chuckled once. Harry couldn't help but stare. "No, elf. I am quite well." His eyes glittered. "Thank you."

Tears welled at the thanks. "Paddy worries is all Master. That's proper. Don't thank Paddy."

Snape snorted. "Sleep, _now_, elf. That's an order."

Harry couldn't fight that. He closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

****

So I was thinking about how I don't really mention how Snape lived after DH in this story. It is implied but i don't actually come out and say it. Does that bother anyone? Do I need to add a paragraph somewhere? I like it as it is, leaving it up to imagination, but it is possible you all might assume I don't have an actual plot or something. I do, I just like keeping certian things secret. You all are smart enough to figure it out on your own.

I think. I can't really be positve as I don't know you.

Fitful

ps: if anyone's having trouble uploading, try copy and pasting your new chapter into an existing document, and using that. For some reason there are problems currently.


	12. Chapter 12

**warning:** harry's distubed at the thought of snape shagging him,

and snape is happy.

**C**hapter **T**welve

Harry woke to the peculiar feeling of all being well.

He blinked in surprise and puzzlement. Hadn't things been well before? As he got up he thought it over. No it hadn't. There was the mystery with Snape before and the lingering feeling that Snape needed something. Now it was gone. When had that happened.?

Suddenly the events of last night flooded back and Harry literally squeaked in shock. _Snape had been in his bed. _Harry had to sit down. Snape had been in his bed with him while he'd been sleeping. Godric's Balls! It was just too wrong for words. It seem like Snape had been m-molesting Harry in his sleep.

Harry groaned. This was very disturbing.

Harry might be able to understand it. If Snape had been a bit younger and him fond of Harry and Harry actually a _human_! But currently Harry was a house elf! He was scrawny and tiny and had white hair and a squeaky voice and he was a bloody HOUSE ELF! It was very very wrong. Sick and _wrong_.

Perhaps Snape was sick. Perhaps dying had changed him, scrambled his brains. Perhaps he'd suddenly discovered veela ancestry and he had uncontrollable urges and a even shorter temper than before!

Or it might have been the fact that Harry was slave entirely devoted to Snape who happened to have green eyes like his mother who had been Snape's one and only love. Oh and lets not forget Snape was a former death eater and dark wizard and who knew what sexual preferences he'd developed while under Voldymort's perverted reign!

Breathe Harry. There could be dozens of explanations. He could have spilled lust potion on himself. He could have forgotten who Harry was. He could have been sleep walking or perhaps he was lonely!

Harry didn't even know if house elves could even have sex! As they didn't reproduce it was rather redundant anyway. Bloody HELL the idea of trying to masturbate in this body was nigh to unthinkable. What did house elves even find attractive? Squeaky voices? Pointy ears? A low tolerance for pain and rapid healing! Yes no need for a safe word it you get a bloody house elf. It'll scream all night, thank you all the while, and still love you in the morning!

Harry realized he was hyperventilating and tried to calm down.

The real problem was that Harry liked Snape. As-as a person! And if there hadn't been Ginny and he and Snape had been the same age and they never had the history they shared perhaps there could have been something! Maybe. Like a .1 percent chance in a thousand.

But Snape had been in Harry's bed. There was no way around that. It had happened. Harry didn't know exactly what Snape did there but he could imagine.

He really needed a shower.

The water calmed him down. A lot. Harry remembered he was a house elf, he'd embraced the magic so there was no turning back, and Snape was his master. His master who he wanted to be happy. His master who he worked all day to please. His master who he was desperate to protect.

Barely able to believe what he was think but unable to refute any off it Harry had made a decision. If Snape climbing in Harry's bed made him happy should he really argue? Could he even? He was a slave and all Snape would have to do was give him an order.

Visions of Snape ordering Paddy to suck him off made Harry start hyperventilating again. That was just wrong. Sick and wrong. House elves were not supposed to . . . Oh but who was he kidding. Everyone had house elves. Most notably dark families. If he thought Snape was the first to try it then he was more naive than Hermione thought he was. Even if house elves couldn't enjoy sex didn't mean they couldn't pleasure someone else. In fact with their eagerness to please they might be ideal for that sort of thing. Harry still winced at the thought but had nearly begun to talk himself around.

He wasn't going to encourage the bastard. After all Snape hadn't _asked_ which was incredibly rude in Harry's book. And his Master really ought to find himself a-a _human _. It would be much better in the long run. If only for Harry's sanity.

But- Harry took a deep breath- But if Snape did it again he wouldn't object. His poor master probably was very fragile, mentally, and rejection from a house elf could drive him utterly batty if he was too far gone. Poor poor Snapey.

Harry finished his bath, determined to forget about he previous night and focus on being a good house elf. He made a point of ignoring certain parts of his anatomy though. He just wasn't quiet ready for certain things yet.

* * *

Snape was in an excellent mood today Harry noted rather wearily.

Harry had emerged from his room to find Snape making breakfast. Harry had been horrified and immediately taken over. Snape had smirked at the elf's dismay but let him finish cooking and settled down to read.

After breakfast Snape had abruptly dragged him to the dungeons and put him to work. Cleaning, at first. Harry spent the entire morning doing that and then right after lunch Snape set to teaching Harry how to prepare ingredients. More and more worrisome was he'd been kind about it. In a Snape sort of way.

The entire time Harry had been busy Snape had been too. He'd started five different potions right after breakfast and had nine complete by the time he started teaching Harry how to squish flobberworms properly. The house elf in Harry had soaked up his master's good humor and the attention. The part that was still _Harry _eyed Snape warily the entire time, wondering what was different.

By the end of the day Harry had decided Snape must have been sick as now he was obviously not. His hair shone with health and cleanliness, his skin was a pale alabaster, not at all sallow as it had been all throughout Harry's Hogwarts days, nor the unhealthy hue it had been lately. His eyes were very bright, but not the unhealthy brightness of fever. And he was a whirlwind of activity. He was brewing at least three potions at a time throughout the entire day. He was expedient and brilliant to watch. The phrase _poetry in motion c_ame to mind before Harry dismissed it as a sign he was pathetic.

That was not to say Snape didn't act like Snape. He still insulted Harry. He still sneered at Harry. He still scowled and smirked and snarked and spat all very Snape-like things at Harry throughout the day. But the entire time he did it he was . . . content. Harry knew this because he used his new found, special elf, Snape-sensor to judge Snape's mood throughout the day.

The only thing that Snape did out of character was eat very little. The entire time Harry had been at Briarwood Cottage Snape had eaten an unholy amount and was ever and always hungry. Now all the sudden he wasn't. Harry supposed it begged the question what had Snape eaten recently that made all the difference. But right after thinking that he'd remembered where Snape had spent part of the night and he'd had to put it out of his mind for the sake of his sanity.

Honestly it wasn't the idea of Snape that made Harry cringe when he thought of intercourse with the man, as Snape was rather attractive now that Harry was old enough to appreciate such a thing. It was actually the age old protest, it's not you it's me! Harry just couldn't fathom _anyone _with him while he was a house elf. And no, thank you very much, it did not have root in his self esteem issues that had begun with the Dursleys!

Well maybe it did, but the house elf bit was the leading factor and Harry was a well known practitioner of denial.

Still, he did note how much better Snape looked today and if he didn't focus on exactly how Snape had gotten there he was able to be pleased at his Master's good fortune.

That night he couldn't fall asleep though.

The muggle appliances hummed, the kitchen clock ticked, the fire lit in the kitchen crackled, an owl hooted mournfully outside his window, and for a brief time it rained. But Harry never fell asleep. It was absolutely unacceptable. Harry had chores to do the next day. He had Snape to take care of. He _needed _his sleep. It wasn't as if Snape would show up anyway, the man had already been there the night before and he wasn't getting younger in years! And if Snape did show Harry was nearly positive he wanted to be asleep when he came.

Ugh. _Wrong _choice of words, Potter!

Harry didn't sleep though and Snape never showed up. When dawn crept in his window Harry got up and relieved himself in his tiny attached loo. He took the time to look and did note house elves were equipped with all parts and they did seem to function normally. He refused to look at himself in the mirror though, it was really to high up anyway, and was grateful it was just a normal one instead of one that talked.

He made breakfast and, after waiting for Snape to show which he didn't, he sent it to his master along with the Daily Prophet. He quite stubbornly refused to admit his melancholy due to the nights events, or lack of them, and blamed his mood on sleep deprivation. After all it wasn't as if he'd _wanted _Snape to sleep with him last night!

Ugh. Bad phrasing, Harry.

* * *

Severus Snape was happy.

It was rather uncomfortable to be in such a state. He'd never had much experience being happy; the most he ever felt for very long was content. Thus when Snape found himself in such a cheery mood he immediately suspected foul play. His list of suspects was short. It consisted of himself and his house elf. As he knew he hadn't cast a cheering charm on himself he was forced to watch the elf for signs of guilt.

Unlike himself his elf was not in a happy mood. In fact he looked . . . tired. And a bit distressed. Most certainly not in keeping with the species' usual disposition. In something that seemed like, he sneered, _empathy _Snape felt his good mood deflating. He nearly sighed in relief. That was much more the thing.

But he found that an unhappy house elf made much less noise than a cheery one.

He should have been grateful. The previous day he had been assaulted with cheery tunes and humming and happy smiles when ever he looked up from his cauldrons. He had been forced to reign the creature in with many a witty insult the entire time instead of attend to his work. It had been most irritating.

Except he had managed to finish 15 different potions before he retired for the evening. That out shot last month's record by five. And it wasn't as if he weren't practiced at brewing in spite of distractions. Multi-tasking could have been his middle name. And it had been a nice change, getting a chance to practice his vitriol for the first time in, oh months. The elf hadn't even minded overly much and by the end of the day hadn't his ears didn't even drooped when Snape called him a pathetic annoyance of unfortunate height.

But Snape justified himself by acknowledging it was rather half-hearted.

And why had he his insults been so weak? Because he found he rather _liked _the creature? Bah! He supposed the humming hadn't been off-tune. And the work _had _been done efficiently. And the smiles he received made the green color of the house elf's eyes glow.

Snape hissed at himself for his lapse. Lily's eyes had glowed when she laughed but he hadn't started woolgathering over it.

He needed to get out of the house. As much as he appreciated Briarwood's charms even he couldn't stay shut in it forever. He looked over to where the elf was diligently scrubbing a burned cauldron. The creature looked quite miserable, something Snape would have loved to see in recalcitrant students during his days as a professor. In a house elf it just looked . . . wrong.

"Enough, elf." Snape announced suddenly and watched as big green eyes turn to him in surprise. "I need more lemongrass than what I have and I'm out of wolfsbane." Those green eyes blinked in surprise but the elf didn't do anything, just sat there expectantly. "Well?" He growled. "What are you waiting for? Fetch my green cloak, and my dragonhide boots, and my lion-head cane."

The elf's eyes widened at the orders and a bit of happiness creeping into it's eyes. With a smart bow it's popped away. Snape scowled at the place where it had stood. The thing was far too happy being a slave for Snape's comfort. If he'd only start throwing curses at it perhaps it wouldn't be so please with it's position.

By the time it returned Snape had checked his glamour, seen it had deteriorated while he'd been . . . ill, and reapplied it. With a quick hand motion he checked the wards and snapped up the ones he always put in place before he left just as the elf returned. Before he could ask, it had relieved him of his outer robes, replacing them with clean newer ones, settled his cloak around his shoulders and started unlacing his leather boots.

Obligingly Snape sat and let the elf change his footwear, nearly smirking at his cleverness. The little monster wasn't distraught now was it? All it took was a few orders and the thing was practically beaming at him. Hideous pitiful creature. He really ought to kick it and see if it thanked him for it.

He didn't, of course, and the elf finished with satisfying haste. The small gold head of his cane was slipped into his left hand and he stood, quite satisfied and ready to go. The elf just stood back and stared at him in frank appraisal and curiosity. Snape rolled his eyes, summoned the werewolf-hide trunk that he shrunk and slipped into his pocket, and motioned the elf to take his hand. Those green eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

"I would like to get there before tomorrow, elf." He snarled warningly and the elf quickly took his hand hesitantly. Snape nodded once at it. "Diagon Alley, elf."

The elf grinned shyly and with a pop they were off.

* * *

****

Is anyone eager for me to post faster? I am a little. I hadn't realized how much I actually put into this story, and I keep getting anxious to get to my favorite parts. I also keep getting urges to start another. Not a good idea considering all my unfinished projects.

Does anyone find Snape out of character? You may a bit later. I hope not though. Oh and who's figured out Snape's issues yet? Think about this. I love fixing things; house elves, canon harry's annoying atttitude, making canon ginny into a bitch(although did you see HPB the movie yet? I swear she was trying to steal harry away from snape in the RoR scene), making snape like harry potter, bringing snape back from the dead . . .

Ok. No more hints.

Fitful

****

ps: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I _love_ it when readers quote my lines back to me. Well lines they enjoyed.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: Regarding the currency translation. I take Galleons and multiply every one by ten. Its a rough estimation but that equals ten US dollars to each Galleon and roughly five pounds to each Galleon. So if Harry cost Snape 3 thousand Galleons, in America Snape would have paid 30,000. Not bad but a little cheap for the boy who lived. **

**warning:** here harry has painful revelations.

**C**hapter **T**hirteen

Harry wasn't quite sure what Snape did for a living.

Snape seemed to work all day brewing but each little potion went into his storeroom never to be seen again. There weren't any owls traveling in and out, beyond the one that brought the paper. No one had visited, rang, or even bloody emailed that Harry noticed. Snape did have both a telephone and a computer but while both were plugged into electricity outlets neither ever made a sound. Harry wasn't even sure they worked.

It was quite a mystery.

In fact the little trunk Snape had summoned just before they left was the only idea Harry could come up with. But it was common knowledge that Potions couldn't be shrunk and so there went that theory. Harry resigned himself to being ignorant until Snape saw fit to tell him.

Snape immediately took off in the direction of Knockturn Alley once they disapparated, shaking off Harry's hand impatiently and leaving Harry to follow on his own or not. As orders weren't very clear he took it as given he was supposed to follow and scrambled to keep up or even keep Snape in sight. The man could keep quite a pace when he was of the mind to!

Harry finally noticed being a house elf was not a fun thing to be in crowds. He was looked over as if invisible, if noticed at all. Occasionally the few who did notice him sneered in disgust or shifted away, as if he were a dirty animal they didn't want to touch them. Or smell. Once he was even kicked when he bumped into a harried looking pureblood.

For the first time Harry missed being The Boy Who Lived.

Snape disappeared inside a dank little shop that wasn't a part of Knockturn Alley by right of a few paces. Harry got fed up with the stupid wizards in his way and apparated to the door with a pop. Quietly he entered and found his master picking over potions ingredients in the dim lighting.

As a house elf Harry could see perfectly fine but he wondered how Snape managed. He didn't even squint when eying the spider crystal for clarity or checking the basilisk venom for consistency. And what the blood hell did Snape need basilisk venom for? Was he trying to get caught by the ministry!

Grumbling Harry scuttled across the dirty, dirty floor, to stand just behind his master. Snape noticed him right away and started handing him his choices without even a glance. Harry's eyes widened when he started counting up the cost of the ingredients he was carrying. Phoenix tears; nearly four ounces of the stuff! Runespoor bones, skeleton intact. Werewolf saliva, boomslang eyes,_ Lilith of Nix_, Slytherin 's Bane, Ghost's Tears!

Merlin, the total would be hundreds of galleons! Even Harry knew that much.

And Snape didn't stop there. He scoured the shop, muttering to himself to low for even Harry's ears to pick up, he discarded more than half he looked at. He sneered a lot. And when he was through he placed everything on the counter himself, carefully stating everything he wanted as the sickly looking man behind the counter dutifully wrote it down, and then he simply scratched a note on a bit of parchment and ordered Harry to gather everything back up.

There was no exchange of gold, paper, or any other sign of currency. Harry was too short to have read what he had written on the parchment but he was quite certain it wasn't an I Owe You.

And then they entered Knockturn Alley and another two shops where he did it again. In those he bought distinctly dark ingredients with a shocking variety of mundane ones. Harry distinctly heard him mutter about quality being much better at Blood Rites then in Diagon Alley. He must have spent near to ten thousand galleons in the course of a few hours. Where did Snape get that kind of money?

It was certainly a good thing that Snape was his master and Harry was a house elf or he would have been forced to either turn him into the Ministry or resign! He could see the headline now.

Auror Potter Gives No Notice! Claims Conflict of Interest.

When Snape was satisfied with shopping he bought ice cream. He first ordered a chocolate one, then grimaced, insulted Fortescue about the quality of his ingredients, and shoved it at Harry. Then he ordered strawberry. It was plain ice cream, he had specifically said no embellishments, but still. Snape had bought Harry ice cream. Was the world about to end? How cold was it exactly at The Devil's Crown?

A curious part of Harry blinked in surprise when he thought of the place. The Devil's Crown. What would Snape make of that underground market? Harry nearly quivered with the desire to tell his master about it. He wanted to make his master happy and he could just imagine Snape's glee once he saw it. He could nearly see Snape's smile and how he'd tell Harry he was a good house elf and how Snape was proud of him and how he would let Harry eat as many puddings as he could hold and then maybe Snape would touch his ear and-

But then common sense kicked in. The Devil's Crown was a very dangerous playground and Harry wasn't sure how on top of his dark game Snape was. He couldn't justify the risk. Snape could get seriously hurt there, much faster than in Knockturn Alley. In comparison Knockturn Alley seemed like a kitten with sharp claws. The Devil's Crown was like a feral nundu mad from a round of crucios.

Despite his disappointment at deciding not to tell Snape about The Devil's Crown, Harry was having the most grand time he'd had since he became a house elf.

That is until he literally bumped into Kreacher.

It was when Snape mentioned he had private business and to stay put that it happened. He left Harry in a side alley just off Knockturn Alley while he disappeared into a wall that must have been invisible. Harry had waited worrying for a long while before he decided he'd pop in on the joke shop and see if Hermione was there with Ron.

He turned to go when something his size suddenly slammed into him. Steadying both of them Harry stepped back to blink in astonishment at his own house elf! He'd forgotten he even had one as he'd left Kreacher to tend Grimmauld Place and live out his old age in peace.

Kreacher immediately backed away from in horror. Harry immediately thought of Sirius. Then he pushed that aside and grinned happily. Kreacher could tell who he was! Harry could see the recognition in his eyes. Feeling giddy Harry jumped forward and grabbed Kreacher's gnarled old hand.

Kreacher gasped and tried to jerk away but Harry refused to let him. "Yous know me, Kreacher! Yous know!" Harry hissed. "Yous can tell my master, please you must!"

"No!" Kreacher spat at him. "Nos I's can't!"

Harry scowled, a bit hurt. Not this again. He thought Kreacher had stopped hating him. "Yes yous can. I order yous."

Creaking laughter found Harry's ears. "Yous a house elf, now! Yous can't order anyone!" His eyes widened in what looked like panic. "I's have no master now. I's a bad elf." He whispered the last words as if they were the dark lord's name.

Harry looked at Kreacher in shock. "I's still H-"

Kreacher snarled and squeezed Harry's hand until a bone actually broke. Harry gasped as tears slid out his eyes. "Yous is not! Yous Paddy! That is yous now." His eyes were wild and scared. "There is no more Harry Potter, now more Potters. I's alone with no Master." He nearly wailed the last of it.

"But-" Harry started not really knowing what he was going to say. But thankfully Snape interrupted before Harry had to decide.

"Kreacher!" Snape spat with surprising venom. "Let go of my elf!"

Snape latched onto Harry's other hand and literally jerked him away. Harry fell to his knees at the pain in his hand and was grateful for Snape's rather strong grip on him. Reassuringly his master didn't let go.

"Kreacher what are you doing here!" Snape snarled looking around wildly as if for someone. "Where's Potter?"

Kreacher screwed up his eyes and wailed loudly. "Harry Potter is gone! I's not have a master!" Then he disapparated with a pop.

Snape snarled and searched the crowd but finally noticed Harry. Pulling him up rather abruptly he stuffed something into his robes and put a hand on Harry's shoulders. "Home, elf." Snape's hand was trembling a bit and clutched Harry's shoulder a bit too tight.

With effort Harry ignored the pain he was in and apparated them to Briarwood's front hall.

* * *

Snape was furious.

Snape was furious and Harry didn't know why. Harry had apparated them back to Briarwood and Snape had started cursing. Not spells but a rather impressive vocabulary of naughty words that made even Harry's ears heat up. He then proceed to pace the length of the front hall tangling his hand in his hair and cursing in half a dozen different languages.

At first Harry thought he was cursing about him. It was a normal assumption given the enmity between Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Then Snape muttered something about the veil and Harry knew he wasn't carrying on about Harry this time.

He was all worked up over Sirius Black.

This caused a rather painful pang inside Harry. Sirius had always been Harry weakness. The first to offer to take Harry in. The first father figure worth looking up to. The first one to hug Harry and actually mean it, not those pathetic little hugs that hurt more than they helped because they were so unimpressive. In fact the reason Harry had hated Snape for so long was because for a long while he'd blamed Snape for Sirius's death.

A part of him still did.

And he really wasn't in the mood to listen to Snape go on about Sirius. His hand hurt and his heart hurt and he had to think about what Kreacher said. Harry opened his mouth to interrupt Snape. Let him know his house elf was hurt and might need a potion or anything just to get him to stop saying such hateful things about Sirius . . . And then he saw Snape's hand. Snape lifted it from the fist it had been in as he spat vitriol about murders and Animagi and ran it through his hair, tugging most painfully on his black locks as he did so.

It was shaking.

Harry's shoulders sagged and his grief about Sirius bled away. What the bloody hell was wrong with Snape now? Couldn't the man just stay sane and predictable for a few bloody minutes?

"Master." Harry began hesitantly. Snape didn't hear. "Master." He called a bit more loudly. Snape continued his rant. "Master!"

Snape whirled on him snarling with hate in his eyes. "What!" He spat viciously and Harry couldn't help but step back a pace.

"Sirius Black is dead." Harry whispered very quietly. "Why yous still mad?"

Snape stood breathing very hard, his nostrils flaring with the force of his breath. Then his eyes turned dead. It was as if someone had drained the life away.

"Because," He also whispered, the sound still loud in the expanse of the front hall. "So is Lily Potter."

Harry's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. Oh.

How had it never occurred to Harry before? He'd heard the entire story, turned it over in his mind many times in the past few years. He'd even watched Snape's memories in the pensieve again and again until he'd been forced to bottle them in a glass potion's flask and lie them in Snape's coffin. How had he never thought Snape might blame Sirius for Lily's death?

It made perfect sense. For years Sirius had been in Azkaban for betraying the Potters. During that scene in the Shrieking Shack he'd looked at Sirius with such hatred. Later Snape had bristled and spat like a scalded cat whenever in Sirius presence. Harry really should have noted it before.

After all Snape was right to blame Sirius, if only just. If Sirius had stayed Secret Keeper they'd be alive. His mum would be alive. Lily would be alive.

"After all I went though," Snape sounded like he was dying all over again. "After everything, Black ruined it with a simple, stupid decision." He tugged viciously on his hair again. "And Albus wondered why I hate Gryffindors. If they don't get themselves killed they still manage to get their friends done in."

Harry's heart nearly bled at that and he couldn't help the tears that escaped. Sirius. Snape was always right wasn't he?

"What's wrong with you?" The words were quick and loud and harsh in the wake of all the whispering. Harry opened his eyes to see Snape frowning at his hand. Harry realized he was cradling the hurt one carefully.

"K-Kreacher hurt Paddy." Harry had to force himself to say it. All he wanted to do was sleep. His heart hurt over all of this.

Snape stalked over quickly and held out his hand. "Let me see."

The order didn't let Harry hesitate. Snape grabbed it carefully and cast a diagnostic charm with his wand. Scowling he glared at Harry. "It's broken." Harry just blinked. Snape sighed tiredly. "You will need Skele-Grow."

Harry followed Snape to the lab. Snape fetched a small dose of Skele-Grow and a bottle of scotch. He gave Harry the potion first before pouring himself a careful finger of scotch before instructing Harry to put it away. Harry took his potion and put the alcohol away in an invisible cupboard where he'd seen Snape pull it out of. The snick of several automatic locking charms sounded when Harry swung the door on the hiding place closed.

Harry returned to his master. Snape was seated in a small sitting room, in an armchair by the fire. He hadn't touched the scotch and his eyes were closed. Harry really didn't know what to do. How to comfort Snape? It was never something he'd thought he'd need to know. If it had been Ron he would have hugged him, after a scene like that, but Snape didn't seem the type for hugs. Especially not hugs from house elves.

Carefully Harry reached out and laid a hand on Snape's. His master didn't open his eyes but after a long moment his fingers curled around Harry's once before he let go. Harry slowly pulled his hand away. He wished he could have known her. She had been his mother but Harry felt her absence far less keenly than Snape did.

To have that effect on someone like Snape she must have been amazing.

* * *

**Okay. I've decided to update after midnight, tonight, so technically its tomorrow. I'll post again normally in the evening again as well.**

**Anyhoo this revelation Harry had was also new to me. I was reading Snape quotes on the net and someone was kind enough to add commentary after each one. This was after the one in the Shrieking Shack, Snape says. "Vengeance is sweet." or something to that effect. The comment after pointed out exactly why it might have been so sweet, Snape blamed Sirius for the death of Lily.**

**And it does make sense. After all could Snape really hold a grudge that long? He would have to be very petty, or unintelligent. Nothing like the Snape we know, the one who loved Lily for so many years, even without her affection to carry it.**

**You might argue he was bullied by black and company and had plenty of reason to hate Sirius on that alone, but Snape hated Potter for stealing lily away and we don't really see how much he hated pettigrew and lupin. He was a bit mean to them, but he's mean to everyone, and he told everyone lupin was a werewolf in third year, but that was after Lupin irresponsibly forgot to take his potion and nearly killed him _again_. And also nearly killed _Harry Potter._**

**Anyhoo. I could rant on about Snape for days. I hope you enjoy this and consider it an issue that might be faced in future Harry Potter fanfiction.**

**Ta,**

**Fitful**


	14. Chapter 14

**warning: **here harry offers himself to snape.

**C**hapter **F**ourteen

Harry awoke to find Snape in his bed again.

This time Snape was _cuddling _him. As if he were a- a teddy bear! He was awake though; his heart was beating much to fast for him to be asleep. Rather than being disturbed by this Harry found himself incredibly worried about Snape.

Only hours ago the man's eyes had looked dead.

And there was the added mystery of Snape's illness. With everything not answered Harry wondered if he knew anything at all. As Harry was a house elf he was very worried about his master. Even if said master was currently in bed with him when he had a perfectly good one elsewhere. If Harry was very quiet perhaps he'd leave. That or Harry would fall back asleep. He really didn't want Snape to-

"I know you are awake, elf." Snape snapped into the dark room.

Harry sighed inwardly. "Yes, Master." He waited but Snape didn't stir. "Yous have bad dream, Master?" Harry couldn't believe he came up with that one. It was rather freeing being an elf. Everyone assumed them completely innocent.

"No, elf. I've yet to sleep."

Oh. That put credence towards the theory Snape was lonely. Perhaps Snape merely wanted compan-

Snape began nuzzling his neck.

This was not happening. Severus Snape, who was supposed to be dead mind you, was _not __**nuzzling **_his house elf's neck. His house elf who happened to secretly be Harry Potter! It just wasn't happening. Harry must be dreaming. What had he eaten to give him such drea-

Snape was licking his neck.

Harry couldn't help his quick intake of breath and squeak of fright. It was one thing to think about complying with his master's every wish. It was quite another to let Snape _lick his neck! _Harry finally noticed he was hyperventilating again. He really ought to stop or Snape would know.

A sudden rush of cool air against the neck his master previously had been licking shocked Harry into sense. He sat up to see Snape heading out the door of his room into the pantry. Bloody Hell! Harry hadn't meant to reject him. He'd just been startled! Anyone would have felt the same.

Tumbling out of bed Harry scrambled after his master. This was very bad. After last night Snape _needed _Harry. His master was very fragile. He was still grieving for Slytherin's sakes! After all these bloody years. And Harry just had to-

"Master, wait." Harry tumbled out into the kitchen. Snape was halfway across it. "Master, I's sorry!" Snape stopped but didn't turn around. Harry blinked feeling a bit of deja vu. He shook it off as unimportant. "I's didn't mean to be bad, Master." He was babbling. "I's sorry. I's give master anything. He only has to ask."

"Elf, enough." Snape sounded tired. "It is perfectly understanding for you to be frightened."

Ooo, ouch. Point for Slytherin. He drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't much as he was a house elf, and scowled at his master's back. "I's _not _scared."

Snape turned slowly around. He actually seemed to laugh once, which for Snape was merely an amused huff of breath, as he took in Harry. "Perhaps you should be, Paddy." Harry blinked. What had happened to Snape's voice? Was it lower? "Perhaps," Snape hissed, "you should go to bed and forget this _ever _happened." His black eyes glittered in the low light of the banked coals in the kitchen's fireplace.

Harry stared at Snape. 'Perhaps' wasn't an order. Snape was giving him a choice. Harry wanted to roll his eyes. Of course Snape wouldn't ever ask for help. It was _Snape _after all.

"My master," Harry began evenly, "can have anything he wants of Paddy." His breath hitched as he thought about that sentence. Of course he'd only think about it after he said it, stupid Gryffindor conditioning.

And Snape was walking towards him, very slowly, as if trying to intimidate Harry. Harry snorted inwardly. He wasn't intimidated that easily. Finally Snape stood before him. And then he was leaning over. And then he was raising a hand to trail a finger from Harry's cheek bone down to where the collar of the muggle shirt that he always wore under his robes lay. Then long cool fingers wrapped themselves around his throat. Harry's little elf heart was a rapid tattoo against the cool flesh of Snape's hand.

And then he was using his thumb to tilt Harry's head, and his mouth descended-

-to closed over his neck, hotly and wetly. Harry shivered once before he felt the distinct prick of twin sharp teeth. Suddenly the bite was more discernible. However, the pain was minimal as sharp bone cut into Harry's throat, and then Snape began to suck. Harry's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling.

And Snape _moaned_. Harry could feel the vibrations of it against his skin and heard the honesty of it. Snape's second hand came around to grip Harry's hair and pull him closer. Harry couldn't be bothered to care. Insistent, demanding, Snape bit harder making Harry moan at the fresh wave of pain. Was it pain? Harry wasn't sure. Sucking and slurping and moaning Snape drank.

He drank Harry's blood.

And then he was gone. Harry swayed the moment he felt his master's last touch and opened his eyes, when had they closed? Snape was watching him. Harry licked his lips, just a swipe of tongue.

"More, Master?" Harry made it an offer. He _wasn't _asking dammit!

Snape shook his head. "No, elf." His eyes seemed to pierce Harry's soul. "Sleep."

Harry blinked at him and then Snape turned away and left the room.

Harry felt as if he'd been sat on by Dudley. Or had one too many drinks. Or his master who was Snape had just drunk his blood.

Bizarrely Harry felt a bit put out that his theories had been so far off the mark. He'd never even contemplated Snape being a vampire. Which he really should have now that he thought about it. After all there had been rumors going on for years at Hogwarts.

He only felt slightly mollified by the fact that Hermione hadn't believe them.

Stumbling across the floor Harry made his way back to bed. Falling in he burrowed under the covers, pulling them over his head. Carefully he touched his neck but felt nothing. There was no wound, no blood, not even a scar. It didn't even hurt. In fact the only thing Snape had left in his wake was memories and Harry's exhaustion. Harry stopped caring and cast his mind into dreams.

Before he fell asleep he growled quietly into the darkness. Snape hadn't been after Harry's body! He'd been after his _blood_. Harry supposed he should feel relieved.

Instead he felt something curiously similar to disappointment.

* * *

Harry woke up and immediately thought of feeding Snape.

That wasn't to say he thought of the fact that he'd done it. Last night in the kitchen with Snape. He thought of doing it again. In almost an almost anticipating way. As if he wanted to. And all this happened before Harry had even rubbed the sleep from his large elf eyes.

Merlin, Snape was a vampire.

It was the most unusual conclusion that Harry had heard of in quite a while. And Harry was counting the fact that he'd recently been turned into a house elf.

The question was how did Snape become a vampire? Oh Harry knew the mechanics of it. Vampire bites Snape, drinks his blood, kills him, then feed Snape his own vampiry blood and voilá! Instant bloodthirsty Snapey. Well the instant probably wasn't. Harry distinctly remembered Snape being dead. Snape in a coffin. Snape being buried. Feeling morose for weeks, not about loosing Remus and Tonks and Dobby and Fred, but about loosing Snape, frustrated at the distinct lack of closure with the man.

And while he _was _dead, in a way,( actually he wasn't quite sure that was correct as he vaguely remembered Hermione harping on about how vampires were just another magical creature, although a cursed one, and were in fact alive due to the fact that they had a heartbeat), the fact remained that this was Harry's second chance. Harry could get to know the real Severus Snape. Snape wasn't dead and was a vampire and now of course he'd understand all about how Harry felt, being the Boy Who Lived and being a the Vanquisher of Voldemort, and being a house elf and he'd tell Harry of course he understood how Harry had always wanted to be normal, because now he wanted the same thing. And he might even like Harry just a bit even after he found out about Harry and Paddy being the same person.

The only problem was the fact that Harry was currently a house elf who was bound by many annoying secrecy spells. Bloody Hell.

The good thing was that Snape was a _**vampire**_. He _wasn't _about to keel over at any second from the result of some random dark curse. He _wasn't _touched in the head. And if the rumors were anything to go by he was surly as virile as ever if not more so- Wait! Where did that thought come from?

Harry scowled and proceeded to get up and start the day. He refused to give any more thought to Snape other than the fact that Snape was his master who also happened to be a vampire. He most certainly was not going to wax poetically on about how dark Snape's eyes were nor how he'd like to touch his hair.

And for Merlin's sake, Harry was _not __**not NOT **_going to think about sex with Snape!

Ugh.

As least until Harry was human again.

* * *

The daily Prophet that morning announced Harry's death.

**Harry Potter Dead!**

An anonymous witch overheard Potter's

house elf wailing about his master's passing and reported this

event. Potter heir is now an orphan before even being born!

Snape snorted. "I see stupidity still runs rampant in relation to Harry Potter."

Snape was seated once again at the kitchen table. He'd slunk in while Harry had been occupied starting breakfast startling Harry into squeaking when he'd realized he was there. Snape had scowled darkly, snapped at Harry to get him tea and not stand there like a lackwit trying to catch flies, and started reading the paper. That was when Harry realized his mouth was open and he'd snapped it shut with a click.

This morning Snape looked like Snape.

Well of course he did, but this morning his glamours were off. He sat there in all his Snapeish glory looking perfectly well rested and content. Well as content as Snape ever could look anyway.

Harry hadn't realized he missed the way Snape looked before.

Snape had glared when he realized Harry was still staring. "Well don't look so horrified, elf!" Snape had growled. "You knew what I looked like when you begged me to take you home!"

It turned out the old Snape still scared Harry a bit. "N-no, Master! I mean yes, Master!" He'd stuttered and scrambled to start tea. Snape had snorted and continued to read.

Currently he was sipping tea and making Snapeish commentary on what he read. "Potter is too damn _Gryffindor _to die." He announced as if that were a failing. Harry decided it the better part of valor to remain silent. "After all," Snape continued, "the blasted child didn't die when he was attacked by the most feared dark lord since Grindelwald. Nor when his thrice-damn relatives tried to beat the magic out of him. Not even when he himself was wondering around looking for trouble and found himself the target of _five _of his six defense professors, and not even when the greatest wizard of our age plotted and planned and conditioned him to sacrifice himself for the greater good!"

It wasn't exactly like that.

"After all, Harry Potteris a _Gryffindor_." Snape sneered. "And like any Gryffindor, blessed with boundless luck to make up for the lack of brain cells connecting common sense to motor function and the healthy emotion of fear." Snape snapped the paper closed, laid it down, and took a sip of tea. "So it is utter _stupidity _for any person with a hint of intelligence to believe the utter drivel spouted on the front page." Snape studied his tea as if he could see the truth in the steaming liquid. "Harry Potter is quite obviously _not _dead and simply twiddling his thumbs in some dungeon waiting for the wizarding world to shower him with the attention that has waned in the last year. Drat the blasted boy's ego."

The Gryffindor in Harry didn't like all these new revelations about Snape.

It was one thing to acknowledge Snape was actually on the light side during the war and not the traitor everyone thought him to be. It was even heart breaking to the most cynical to hear the tale of Snape loving Lily Potter so much he sacrificed everything for her, spied for years, suffered everything he did, and died looking into her eyes, by proxy of Harry of course, thinking he'd failed.

Now Harry had had to face the fact that Snape was actually a good person, despite his dark leanings, _hadn't _hated Harry's godfather because of some silly child-hood grudge, and was rather attractive despite his prickly personality. Harry had been able to get through all that, with only a hiccough or two as his mind widened to accommodate such radical ideas.

But the idea that Snape was worried about Harry Potter was something the Gryffindor in Harry balked about acknowledging as fact.

After all Snape hadn't actually come out and said it had he? That made it perfectly acceptable for Harry to ignore as long as it didn't interfere with his house elf duties to his master.

"The tea is cold, elf." Snape snapped and Harry jumped when he realized he was standing in front of the cooker doing absolutely nothing. So much for said subject not interfering with his duty.

"Paddy is sorry, Master!" Harry answered and was quick to start the eggs before he sped over the the table and magicked the tea hot again. Snape grabbed his wrist before he could scuttle away and Harry gulped and brought his eyes up to meet his.

Snape didn't look more scary than usual or like he was about to bite Harry again. He did look at Harry with a frown of concentration before snapping, "Sit, elf! We have much to discuss."

Reluctantly Harry sat down. Snape didn't release his wrist until after Harry had had been seated for a long minute. Then he let go, took a careful sip of tea, and reached inside his robes to pull out a potion. It was orange and was small enough to be mistaken for a marble if not for the spout directly on top of it, stoppered with a cork.

"This, elf," Snape began, "is a potion to increase the production of hemoglobin within a humanoid magical creature." Harry blinked. What? "Blood, elf!" Snape snapped. "It will increase blood production. You will take it unless you want me to give you clothes!"

Harry's eyes widened. "Yes, Master!" He squeaked and took the potion Snape was holding out impatiently. Snape just eyed him expectantly until Harry hesitantly unstoppered the vial and downed the contents. As it was barely a mouthful Harry didn't really have time to acknowledge the taste which he thought was all for the good as potions were usually nasty.

"Also," Snape continued after he had nodded his approval, "I must inform you my name is Severus Snape. You are not to call me this, _ever_, elf!" His eyes bore into Harry's. "This knowledge is worth my life, if heard by the wrong ears. I am trusting you with it because I have decided you must know in the event of an emergency." Snape stopped to sip his tea and let Harry take that in.

Snape was being nice again. Harry really ought to stop being astonished.

"In the event of an emergency, what qualifies as an emergency is my life or yours being in imminent danger, you are free to contact Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Weasley nee Granger, or," He sneered. "Harry Potter, and, if the situation warrants it, give them this information. I leave the choice at your discretion. Lucius," He grimaced, "already knows but I would prefer not to be indebted to him any more than I already am. Ideally the last three people I mentioned, in the order I mentioned, should be contacted should I come near death that you are unable to prevent, or if you come near death at my hand."

He looked at Harry frowning. "Do you understand?"

Harry blinked. Yes of course he did. That doesn't mean he wasn't suspicious. What was Snape planning on doing that might make these orders necessary? "Paddy understands, Master." Ah, the art of lying without actually doing so. House elves had it perfected. Using third person was their way of getting around a millions orders they would have had to obey.

"Furthermore," Snape began, "I am a vampire. This I am quite sure you know." He eyed Harry's neck with what looked like longing before snapping his eyes back to staring into Harry's. "This is _not _to be told to anyone. Ever." He leaned forward just a bit. "If any of the people I have mentioned figure out this fact, you may send them to me for explanation. Should anyone else find out, you are to make sure they forget." He leaned back into his chair. "Are my orders clear, elf?"

Harry fidgeted. "Yes, Master. Paddy is not to tell anyone master is Severus Snape or a vampire except Lucy, Draky, Hermy, or Harry Potter if it is necessary." Harry wondered if he could have told himself this information if Snape had excluded him from the list.

"Very good, elf." Snape praised. "Now finish breakfast. I may be a vampire but I still need real food if you don't want me draining you dry every night." He smiled oddly when he said this and Harry got the funny feeling Snape was daydreaming of doing exactly that. With a squeak of what must have been fright he scrambled to finish breakfast and feed Snape post haste.

After the meal was done Snape went to take a sip of juice and snorted. A bit came out his nose but he didn't notice as he was laughing very hard. Silently, but he was indeed laughing. Harry stared.

"Lucy." Snape gasped at last wiping tears from his eyes. "I can't wait to call him that."

Harry's grin widened and he beamed at his master. He couldn't wait either.

* * *

**I do hope you you all realize this story is complete. I could post it all right now if I wanted to. Therefore I'm actually cheating; don't be impressed when I update everyday. **

**How did you find the Snape revelation? I know, so **_cliché_**, and honestly the first time I read a Snape is a vampire fic I couldn't stop laughing. But, it's really the perfect way to save him from the DH disaster. And honestly, vampiresnape/houseelfharry? Much more reasonable, and less squicky, except it's still a little squicky. Don't worry, I don't have Snape shag house elf harry in this story. That is a bit much. **

**I wanted to though, I had these bad visions in my head, but as this is fanfiction . net I refrained. Sigh. **

**Oh and regarding the reflection/garlic/nofood issues, I tend to ignore them. I find the conventional idea of vampires stupid. What would actually make you not have a reflection? I tend to create my own ideas of what a vampire is, if you've read Saith you'll understand. Anyway, I don't touch on what are vampires much either, but I thought you all might have question. **

**You all might have guessed this is a fun fic. The plot is left open for interpretation, the ending negligent, and I leave a bunch of stuff unfinished nor unsaid. Please don't take my story seriously. I wrote it for fun. If you really dislike reading it, then don't.**

**Fitful**


	15. Chapter 15

**warning: **here harry takes off and snape feels proprietary.

Chapter Fifteen

Just before lunch an owl brought terrible news.

Harry had come in from outside chores and starting setting out things for lunch. An owl flew in the window charmed to open for it carrying a thin copy of the Daily Prophet. When mail was delivered later in the day then morning it usually meant breaking news. Harry untied the paper and paid the owl, feeding it a bit of egg left over from breakfast.

When the owl left Harry took the paper to await Snape when he came down for lunch. He unrolled it and only glanced at the headline before he, choking, gripped it more firmly to read.

**Potter Heir Not A Potter!**

At 12.03 pm Ginerva Potter nee Weasley gave birth to a healthy baby boy that obviously was _not _fathered by Harry James Potter. It is in fact

rumored Draco Malfoy is the father of the would be heir. He was seen in intimate embrace of the expectant mother just hours before she gave birth.

Both parents, as well as Harry Potter who is missing, were unavailable for comment. Is Potter really dead or is he simply away nursing a broken heart?

Did Draco Malfoy, a former death eater and Potter's Slytherin rival in school, play a hand in Potter's disappearance? The Auror division, no doubt

taking this as an attack on one of their own, is currently looking into matters. The Weasley family patriarch was also unavailable for comment.

Harry couldn't help but sit down. The paper slipped out of his hands, rolling back up and skittering under the table unheeded.

Ginny and _Malfoy_? How? Bloody Hell! _When?_

Well there was that time when Malfoy sponsored the Holyhead Harpies.

He'd come in and practically taken over, stating that he liked knowing what was being done with his money. Ginny had been pissed for weeks, and spat vicious things about Malfoy, cursing him up and down for nearly a month. Harry had actually gotten tired of hearing bad things about him as Ginny had actually started to make things up by the end of it. But then one day the curses stopped, and when he'd asked Ginny about it, she had said she'd decided to grow up and that Malfoy might not be so bad after all.

At the end of a year, when the contract was ended, Malfoy hadn't offered more money and Ginny hadn't seemed upset to see him go. At the time Harry had thought Malfoy was being his haughty Malfoy self. Sponsoring the team just to say he could and then turning and dropping them for his next hobby, as if it was below a Malfoy to sponsor professional Quidditch after all.

Perhaps he had ulterior motives in sponsoring the team. Perhaps he had been _plotting _to woo Ginny away from Harry. With something stupid no doubt about how the war had changed him and he was a better person now.

But that was _two years _ago! That mean's Ginny would have had to be with Malfoy for the last two years. He would have noticed! He would have been able to tell! Ginny loved him. She said so all the time. She wouldn't lie-

And wasn't Malfoy _married_? And hadn't there been that announcement that took up half the front page of the Daily Prophet, and the Silver Ball that everyone who was anyone went to, and Malfoy declining the position McGonagall had offered him to coach Quidditch after Hooch retired, all pointing to the obvious fact that Malfoy's wife was expecting. Was he greedy or something? What it wasn't enough that he had his own wife and child, he just had to get back at Harry by stealing his?

And oh the _baby_. The child that Harry had wanted so badly wasn't even his! Well, if rumor was to be believed. Harry frowned in sudden doubt. In fact, considering the fact that the Daily Prophet was notorious for printing less than honest rumor, Harry decided he was disinclined to believe Ginny's baby wasn't his until he heard her say so.

Harry suddenly jumped up. He had to visit Ginny. He needed to know for sure!

With little thought to the consequences Harry was up and out the door in a flash. Once he was outside he remembered his current house elf state and that he could have just apparated from where he'd been. He also remembered he couldn't actually talk to Ginny. Sneering he ignored particulars and with a loud pop disapparated.

* * *

Snape's house elf was missing.

It was something that might cause alarm in a creature of lesser intelligence than Severus Snape but didn't actually worry him overly much. After all, said house elf was a magical creature well armed with magic and quite capable of apparition. Should it actually find trouble it would be able to extricate itself from harms way with sagacity.

Of course said house elf was also barely a month old and new to magic and the wizarding world. Perhaps it didn't know of wizarding prejudices towards magical creatures? It was entirely possible the silly thing might cause a misunderstanding and get into all sorts of trouble that Snape would be forced to clean up. It did act frightfully Gryffindor at times. Who knew what chaos it could cause when without proper supervision?

If Snape had known moving back to England would cause this much disruption to his well established routine he would have stayed in America.

America had been fraught with differences that Snape, as a born and raised Englishman, was highly offended by but it did possess a modicum of appeal in it's view of tolerance towards it magical creature populace. Snape, as a vampire, had found himself welcomed with shockingly naive enthusiasm by wizards and muggles alike. The Government of Magical America was less strict in keeping the secrecy of magic from muggle then The Ministry of Magic was. Muggles who were friends with wizards or magical creatures were treated like family and given clearance to know, interact and live within the magical community. It made for a much more open-minded view of creatures such as vampires and werewolves who were met with fear and disdain elsewhere in the world.

Snape supposed it was why America prided itself on being the land of the free.

Without the mass prejudiced Snape would have received at home he was easily able to find himself a willing blood donor and proceed to start his life free of the dark lord Voldemort. Business had poured in once Snape had set up shop and four years had passed with surprisingly little attention paid to the passing of the hours. One day Snape looked into the mirror and found himself seeing a much younger man than arrived four years ago, one more at peace with himself and willing to put the past to rest.

It was pure nostalgia that sent him back to England on mere whim, and fancy that had him spontaneously purchasing Briarwood Cottage.

It was necessity that had him buy the thrice damned house elf.

He wouldn't have done it if he'd had any other choice. Severus Snape was not the sort who owned pets and creatures that weren't going to end up as potion ingredients at some point or an other. He admitted honestly that he simply didn't have the patience for them. Buying a house elf was literally the last option he had short of buying an actual human slave or proposing to some insipid chit who would want to share his bed and eventually his name.

The Ministry maintained that vampires were dark and dangerous creatures that were required to register as such and take bloodthirst dampening potions if they wanted to live within the magical community.

While it was true that vampires were dark and dangerous what the Ministry disallowed and denied knowledge of was that bloodthirst dampening potions didn't work. The potion was designed to prevent the pain of craving blood but not cease the vampire body's need for it. Eventually the lack of the vital nutritional supplement called hemoglobin causes weakness, madness, and death in any and all vampires forced to go without. The Ministry's private opinion was that this wasn't much of a loss and therefore didn't need their attention.

Any and all unregistered vampires found within Ministry borders would be, by law, offered registration, the dampening potion, and penalized with a hefty fine. If said vampire didn't register or agree to take the dampening potion it would be immediately executed by way of beheading. Also, it was illegal to own a wand, if one was a vampire, and if found with one led to immediate execution. Vampires were dangerous enough without adding magic to the mix didn't you know?

There were many vampires who ignored the Ministry, but those lived in clans, or cults in Snape's opinion, and were considered illegal aliens who were regularly pursued by Ministry hired vampire hunters. Snape refused to join one causing a bit of tension between him and others of his kind living in England. They were feudal and barbaric in practice with a disregard for life that Snape didn't hold with after the excess of the attitude he received beneath Voldemort's reign.

Thus Snape didn't have the luxury of numbers to protect him from hunters while feeding, nor could he feed on muggles easily without their knowledge. Obliviating one obviously led to Ministry attention which defeated the purpose. Asking a muggle to donate blood was idiocy without a magical contract which also couldn't be performed on them or in their presence without Ministry attention as well. Muggles, it was proved time and again, couldn't keep secrets without magical contracts and so Snape was left with little options.

Owning a house elf proved ideal in theory. Said elf would be a slave; one of the few creatures still widely accepted as morally allowed to be subjugated thusly. Slaves were bound by spells to be unable to defy, betray, or harm their master. Thus Snape's secrets would remain secret, he would be quite safe from harm something the Slytherin in him approved of, and the slave would be unable to say no if donating it's blood disagreed with it.

But Snape had discovered his good luck, so abundant while abroad, had run out and he found himself with a green-eyed elf child that reminded him painfully of Lily and just enough of Harry Potter to irritate him. Instincts well honed over the years Potter had attended Hogwarts had risen up and Snape had found himself quite unable to order the simple creature to his bed for nightly feedings.

Feeding was best done in a bed Snape had found. The one being fed on soon found themselves weak with blood loss and occasionally arousal and if begun upright would always end up collapsed in the vampire's arms by the end. The one feeding also found themselves extraordinarily relaxed during the process and, while the rumor of vampire strength wasn't unfounded, it was an annoyance to have to hold up that much weight when all one wanted was a bloody drink.

It was what such an order could be perceived as that finally caught Snape's conscience in a pinch. Him, the dark, older, master ordering the young, helpless to refuse, child to his bed. It ran parallel to all the horror stories his father had told him to scare him from going off to learn magic and was a little too close to them for comfort.

Of course it didn't occur to him that creeping into said young, helpless, elf's bed wouldn't really rid him of the image of pederasty in the least. And by the time he'd figured it out, he'd already done it, successfully, mind you, and so he was forced to simply go with it. After all there was no one there to comment or judge and it being a matter of life and death it remained a necessity.

If it weren't for those thrice damned eyes everything would have been fine.

Every time those green eyes looked his way he was assaulted with memories from the past. Increasingly worrisome a quite a few of them consisted of Potter and not Lily as one might assume. It didn't help that Potter was missing and a part of Snape that he refused to acknowledge wished his house elf were he. Of course sometimes he did acknowledge it, but not very seriously. During those times Snape argued that he only wished Potter were his house elf because he, Snape, was a former death eater, a dark wizard, and would maliciously enjoy tormenting the son of his childhood bully without anyone there to intervene.

As he never actually tortured the elf, physically or otherwise, the argument was very weak and Snape would be forced to retreat to pretending he did _not_ desire Potter as his house elf.

Although the thought of Potter, green eyed and grown into a healthy young man, honed by Auror training, as his willing or not so willing slave, did cross his mind once or twice, it being a fantasy of a _personal _nature he didn't really pay it much attention. After all he'd thought of McGonagall once or twice during a nightly routine while in his younger days and he'd never looked at her seriously as a potential bed-mate.

The natural arousal that occurred while feeding was also summarily dismissed. After all this was a house elf and of course Snape didn't fancy it's small, wrinkled, body, with it's too large nose and hands, bat-like ears, and gorgeous green eyes. Wait. No. Of course he didn't. And he couldn't as it wouldn't be, err, proper. He was in a position of authority over it and it was a child for Merlin's sake! Resemblance to Potter or not Snape would not, _not, __**NOT**_ fancy an infant house elf.

Which meant he really should stop sneaking into it's bed.

And so he did. He told the elf the truth, gave it the _choice_ his conscience demanded although he didn't quite know what he would have done if he'd been refused outright. And then he fed in the kitchen like normal people did. The fact that he'd done it standing up like a horse was ignored as unimportant.

He'd provided it with more information than necessary, even brewed it a potion so he wouldn't find it's body cooling on the kitchen floor one morning, and treating the silly creature with a modicum of respect.

And in return, not a few hours later, it disappears!

He had gone to the kitchen for lunch, expecting something tantalizing to fill the kitchen with artful aroma, only to be disappointed. There was nothing cooking, no little green eyed monster humming nauseatingly happy songs. There had been food stuffs lying on the counter ready to be turned into a meal, so Snape hadn't been overly alarmed. But then the elf hadn't showed up and Snape, never being a patient man when he didn't have to, had gone searching for it after five minutes had passed.

A complete search of the house and grounds revealed no house elf. A point me spell yielded nothing as well, which meant he either preformed it poorly, an unlikely occurrence, or the recipient of said spell was too far away to determine its location.

Snarling Snape had made his way outside in case he was forced to apparate to rescue the blasted creature.

It was his cursed bad luck he was quite sure. He just had become nostalgic over a simple encounter with one of his countrymen, a muggle one at that, and off he went back to England never mind the fact that doing so could get him caught by the Ministry and beheaded.

In righteous rage he reached for the master/slave bond and yanked on it none so gently. It tingled in response but didn't immediately bring his house elf into his presence. Practicing patience he waited. Minutes ticked by and there was nothing. No pop, not even an answer from the master/slave bond, which Snape had read could transmit emotion given intense provocation, such as in a life threatening situation.

Apparently the elf wasn't in trouble or Snape would have known via the bond. It was deliberately refusing his summons.

Snape disliked being ignored.

Closing his eyes he cast his mind back to a spell book of the Dark Lord's. It could force apparition on any being it's caster was linked to magically via, bond, blood, etc baring any protection spells, wards, etc. Muttering the incantation, which was a curious mix of Latin and Gaelic, he focused his mind on the house elf, _his_ house elf, named Paddy or possibly Harry Potter . . .

The bond responded with a scream of pain, pain not Snape's, and he gritted his teeth against it. If the blasted thing was in pain it must be resisting, drat the stupid creature. He muttered the spell a second time, this time with his rage pushed across the bond, hoping the elf would get scared of his anger and comply.

The bond yielded this time, as if it would work, but then suddenly reversed and Snape felt _himself _being pulled along.

It was a curious feeling, apparating to an unknown location underneath his own power. He'd been side-along apparated before, it was often necessary and the dark lord had especially loved to use it with his followers. It was nothing like being in control of the jump. With side-along apparition you were forced to go somewhere, you knew not where, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. This was also different. Snape was well aware he could cease to comply with where the bond was directing him. He didn't of course, but he could have, and that made all the difference.

With a loud crack, not like his normal quiet ones, Snape disapparated. He was in the middle of an endless green plain somewhere in the middle of farming land. Snape pulled out his wand regardless of the seemingly harmless landscape. It was time to find his damned house elf and, if it wasn't in trouble, make sure it understood it was going to be.

A high pitched scream echoed loudly making Snape stiffen. Slowly he crouched, trying to hide in the grasses, wary of potential predators. The scream echoed again, louder and Snape's trained ear could tell it wasn't fear motivating it. It was pain. And it obviously belong to his house elf.

Someone was torturing his house elf. Snape scowled fiercely and started towards the sound. Whomever it was, he would make them pay.

* * *

**I'm sick today, so I'm posting early in case I fall asleep. **

**Did you like the addition of Malfoy? At first I was using Zabini, I ususally pair him with Ginny in my mind just to get her out of the way, but then the story got stuck. I changed the name to Malfoy and the plot took off. Draco comes across rather unappealing in this fic, I don't usually think his character is as bad as JKR makes it out to be, but I can't really change it. **

**Anyhoo. No one commented on me making Snape a vampire. I'm sad. I thought I'd get _some_ response. **

**Ah well. That really is the end of my surprises. Maybe I should write a normal summary that states clearly Snape is a vampire and Harry is a house elf. Then more people would read my fic. But that does seem like conformity.**

**Fitful.**


	16. Chapter 16

**warning: ** here harry has to see the truth to believe it.

**C**hapter **S**ixteen

Harry found St. Mungos warded against house elves.

It was painfully clear when he bounced of the hospital's wards and ended up in a back alley in the middle of London. Rather in accord with his brand of luck he managed to disapparate in front of a muggle as well. It was boy, smoking a fag he was obviously to young for, who was haunting said alley. He took one look at Harry and actually fainted dead away.

Harry sighed. It really was just the sort of thing that happened to Harry Potter. Harry cursed his father for contributing so eagerly to his Gryffindor genetics and then cursed himself for not thinking things through before he took off into the unknown.

But Harry wasn't one to waist a good opportunity and he disillusioned both himself and the boy with a snap of his house elf fingers and levitated the boy out into the crowd and through to the St. Mungo's street entrance. Once inside he put on his house elf hat and took the spell off them both.

"Help, wizards, help. Young Master is sick. Need help quick!"

A witch and wizard healer just happened to be standing nearby and immediately ran to assist Harry. Harry rang his hands and sobbed with worry while the healers ran diagnostic charms. The wizard snapped questions, which Harry responded by babbling something about smoke and amnesia but didn't try to be very clear. It turned out they didn't really care and sped the muggle boy away barely even looking at Harry.

Smirking Harry watched them leave before making his way into the hospital.

Ginny would be in the maternity ward Harry assumed and, cloaked in a handy disillusionment charm, he made his way there still boiling in rage over the stupidity of the Daily Prophet. By the time he finally arrived he'd half convinced himself there was nothing to worry about. Of course Ginny hadn't cheated on him! It was ridiculous. And with Draco Malfoy! Who would believe it?

It wasn't hard to figure out which room Ginny was in. It was the one Aurors were standing in front of, preventing crowds of unfamiliar people from entering although quite a few weren't even trying and instead were peeking through curtains in the window. The word quidnunc came to mind, causing Harry to frown wondering where he'd heard it, before he shrugged it off as unimportant and tried to think.

It was a bit hard, as he was still angry, but he'd calmed down since reading the article and was able to push the anger aside. After all it wasn't necessary was it? Ginny loved _him_, Harry Potter. _Not_ Draco Malfoy!

When he took the time to think the plan that popped into mind was so clever Harry thought Snape would have been impressed.

He ducked around the corner, still disillusioned, and yelled in his best house elf voice. "Master Harry Potter is ALIVE! And HERE! Wait! Where's Master going?" Then he waited.

Instantly there was a sound of stampeding feet and the crowd of unfamiliar people sans Aurors rushed around the corner.

"Where?"

"Harry Potter alive! It's a miracle."

"Damn shame. The poor boy's going to be heartbroken!"

"He's not here."

"He must have left, perhaps we can catch him!"

And with that they were off. Harry slunk around the corner and started for Ginny's room. He couldn't wait to see his baby! He wouldn't even tell her who he was, just that Harry Potter had sent him. It was a fool proof plan. He'd be a good house elf and return to Snape as soon as-

Draco Malfoy's pointy face poked itself out of the door to Ginny's room. Nervously he looked down the hall this way and that. Then the perfect Draco Malfoy _bit his lip_ before licking it nervously and opening the door wider stepping halfway out.

Past him Harry could see Ginny, his wife, sitting in a rocking chair holding a bundle of blue blankets.

"Don't let him in," Malfoy snapped instructions to the Auror on the right. "Ginny can't handle the stress at the moment. Just, tell me when he gets here." And then he ducked back inside and the door shut.

Harry closed his eyes.

It was true then. Ginny and Malfoy. All true. Harry leaned against a white hospital wall and slid to the floor. He was honestly shocked. She'd lied to him. For two years. Why? Couldn't she have broken it off cleanly? Couldn't she have told him the truth?

Would he have listened? He wasn't sure. It _was_ Malfoy after all. And Harry would have been more inclined to believe him guilty of some nefarious deed than Ginny of loving him. Honestly, he was Malfoy! The Slytherin Serpent, the Dastardly Draco, the Pureblood Prince. He hated Gryffindors and he hated Weasleys! He was married for Merlin's sake!

Harry just couldn't' sit here. He needed to know more. He needed to know why! He deserved it after all the lying she had done.

Without regard for the consequences, like any proper Gryffindor, Harry apparated into Ginny's hospital room.

Apparently apparition was allowed within the hospital for Harry quickly found himself in a small room with a hospital bed, Ginny and her baby rocking in a chair, and a pacing Draco Malfoy. At the last minute Harry remembered to muffle the pop of disapparition. How he did it, he couldn't have told anyone, so he supposed it must be a house elf thing.

Draco Malfoy looked very worried.

He was pacing back and forth in the tiny space available, a panicked look on his pointy face, and a hand tugging at his usually perfect hair causing it to look charmingly disheveled. A bit jealous Harry scowled at him from under his disillusionment charm.

"He's going to kill me." Malfoy said it so matter of factually that Harry almost believe it. Then he read the panic in Malfoy's voice and smirked. Malfoy sounded very worried indeed.

"I am dead. If Potter doesn't kill me my father will." Malfoy looked very pale at the thought.

Ginny sighed. "You are overreacting." Harry smiled at her disapproving tone. Perhaps they weren't together after all. "As usual, Draco." She added softly her voice very warm.

Ah, well that's killed it then.

Malfoy stopped pacing and stood in the middle of his path directly in front of her. "I want you to know, before I die,-" Ginny scowled at him, "that I love you." Then she sighed and blinked very hard against sudden tears.

Harry winced. Okay. Another bad, _bad_, **bad** idea, Potter! Snape was spot on when he called you an idiot! Lets just write 'Snape is always right!' on your grave marker shall we?

"I love you too, Draco." Ginny replied very softly. Harry closed his eyes, wanting to bang his head against a wall. And it just keeps getting worse!

"And," Draco began again very bravely. "I love our s-son." Although he stuttered strangely on the word Ginny's eyes glowed. "And, I'm going to do what I must to make life good for us." His eyes dropped to the floor and he seemed to wither. "Even if my father disowns me and I'm forced to work like an utter plebeian."

Ginny grinned at him very proudly. Harry snorted in his head. Trust Malfoy to make everything about him on the day he becomes a father.

"Harry _will_ understand, Draco." Ginny said very forcefully.

Malfoy snorted.

"He will." Ginny stared at him in an exasperated way. "You don't know him like I do. He won't hurt you because that would hurt me." She sighed very softly and guilt chased it way across her face very briefly. "Because he loves me."

Malfoy swallowed hard, and looked away from her, to stare out the window. Harry was in the ideal position to see the jealousy that twisted his pointy face into an ugly childish pout. "What will we do about money?"

Ginny actually rolled her eyes at him. "I do have a job to go back to, Draco." She shook her head impatiently. "Just because Harry wouldn't let me work doesn't make it any less true." Harry frowned. What was this about him not _letting_ her work? He'd never said that. Bloody hell he never would have said that! Utter hogwash! "You said you wouldn't make me stay home, Draco." Ginny's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Were you lying?"

Draco's expression turned curiously blank before smoothing into one of cautious patience. "Of course not, Ginny, but if my father were to come around there would be no need-"

"I will not become some insipid housewife, Draco Malfoy!" She snapped. "I will not sit around the house twiddling my thumbs while you go do whatever you do during the day!" Draco opened his mouth but she didn't let him speak. "In fact I could easily support us on my _own_ if I wanted to!"

Draco stared at her disbelievingly. "We couldn't live on that, Ginerva. Do you know how much things _cost?" _

Ginny scowled at him. "Yes I do. My family was poor remember? I had to scrimp and save every penny I got; I am quite sure I know how much things cost!" Her brown eyes turned dark with disdain, "It's your pureblood arse that doesn't know how much things actually cost in the real world."

Draco blinked at her before his face went blank again.

Ginny sighed. "Don't shut me out, Draco. Don't punish me for speaking the truth." Her eyes turned begging. "Please not today."

Draco stared at her for another long moment, face impassive, before it softened into a gentle expression making him look infinity more attractive. "I'm sorry, Ginerva, I'm just upset. I shouldn't take it out on you."

Ginny smiled understandingly and nodded. "I know, Draco, I'm sorry too."

For an argument there had actually been very little shouting. This puzzled Harry. When he was a child, living with the Dursleys, there was always shouting, mostly done by his uncle. Harry had learned at an early age that when he got angry shouting helped an awful lot. After being sorted into Gryffindor it only became worse as gryffins were a loud noisy lot at the best of times. With him and Ginny whenever they argued there was always much shouting, and cursing, not magically of course, and yelling and slamming of doors. In contrast it almost seemed as if Ginny and Malfoy had only had a lively debate.

Harry wondered if that was where their marriage went wrong.

Had he shouted at her a bit too much? Or had the fact that they shouted meant they were doomed before they started? Harry supposed he would never know. Even if he was human and could ask, he doubted Ginny would tell him. Perhaps she didn't know.

It was obvious now that she wanted to be with Malfoy. It would be a very good thing if Harry just accepted it. Once he did perhaps he would be able to start moving on.

"Do you still love him, Ginny?" Malfoy's question was barely a whisper in the low light of the room. Only the sunlight shining past the curtains on the window illuminated his face. "Potter, I mean."

Ginny didn't answer right away. When she did her voice was far away.

"I don't know I ever really did. I loved him from afar for so long, I think I built up this person in my mind that doesn't exist." Ginny looked sad. "It was so painful not to be with him, him never noticing me. And then when he did, I ignored everything but the fact that I had him. Finally."

Malfoy snorted self-deprecatingly and leaned back against the white hospital wall. "Sounds like you loved him."

Ginny shook her head. "I loved the idea of him. A knight in shining armor. Of being rescued. He was always so good at that. But, " she fiddled with the blanket that covered the bundle in her lap. "I figured out I don't like being treated like a princess. I like the idea of rescuing myself."

Malfoy stared at her from his slumped position against the wall. Harry saw his eyes and shifted uncomfortably. Malfoy's eyes were hungry. As if he wanted her, even when she was not two feet away and he already had claim to her. It wasn't a lustful gaze, although there was the element of lust in it. It was a coveting gaze. The way one looks at something beautiful and thinks 'I must have this. I must keep this forever. If I don't I'll never be whole.'

The way Malfoy looked at Ginny made Harry feel humble. Harry knew he'd never looked at Ginny that way. He couldn't imagine ever doing so. He closed his eyes shut on the scene before him. But she deserved to be looked at like that. She deserved to be loved like that.

That was when Harry knew he'd never have his old life again.

When Malfoy got up and closed those two steps between him and Ginny, Snape yanked very hard on Harry's slave bond to him.

Gasping Harry tried to stifle it but it escaped anyway. Malfoy had turned, wand out in an instant. His beady eyes narrowed as he scanned the room searching for the source of the noise. Harry held himself very still.

Long minutes passed.

Then Malfoy cast. A spell spat itself out of his wand, and hit Harry before he knew what was happening. The disillusionment charm vanished and Harry squeaked at the expression on Draco's face. There wasn't even hesitation. A spell spat itself out again, red like the Cruciatus, and Harry reached for his magic to defend himself-

Just as his magic attacked him. Harry screamed and then screamed louder when he felt his master tugging him home by force. The force of the Malfoy's curse hitting, and his magic admonishing him for trying to use it against a wizard, and Snape's impatient spell all wound around Harry until he literally _was_ pain, and always had been pain, and would forever be pain.

He knew he was screaming, and then he was being pulled away again, and a baby cried-

-before Harry slammed hard into the ground. Tall green grass poked into his face, eyes, mouth, nose, while he writhed and screamed from the pain of the punishment. His own magic was brutal now, punishing him for the magic he'd almost cast, for ignoring his master, for making his master angry. . .

Harry forced his mouth against the ground, hoping the earth and his magic would hear his screams better that way and finally _stop_ the torment.

It didn't stop for a long while.

Then hands with long fingers, cool and familiar, were turning him over, gripping his head, forcing a potion down him mouth, and _ordering_ him to swallow dammit! Harry did and finally blissful peace overtook him. His last thought before darkness was how painful the disappointment that came from his slave bond was. And how equally wonderful was the concern coming from the same direction.

* * *

Snape could be a very patient man with the proper motivation.

His motivation for being patient this morning was glaringly obvious. He wanted to know where his blasted house elf had gone off to.

He had found the elf screaming from the torture of the Cruciatus in the middle of nowhere with the caster conveniently absent. He'd forcefully canceled the spell, sending it back on it's caster with vindictive pleasure, but the elf hadn't stopped screaming. Apparently there were more to the spells binding his house elf than he'd previously thought. A potion down it's throat soon sent it into an unconscious state and the torture spells had finally released it.

Diagnostic spells had revealed a shocking amount of damage left behind. Broken bones, strained and snapped muscles, and internal bleeding all seemed more reminiscent of Snape's death eater days. The house elf hadn't even been gone very long. How did it managed to get itself _in_ such a state?

Scowling Snape had apparated them back to Briarwood, levitated the elf into the house and down to the dungeons. A little room, just off the potion's lab was where he'd created a makeshift hospital room. It hadn't really been necessary as Snape wasn't planning on doing anything to need it any time soon, and of course he was a vampire, but thought it might give credence to the illusion that he was a normal dark wizard and _not _a vampire should anyone ever ask.

Placing the elf on one of the crisp white beds Snape summoned potions from his store. Not even bothering to wake the creature, just in case the spells decided it hadn't suffered enough, he spelled them directly into it's stomach. A self updating diagnostic spell soon gave shocking information.

The elf had healing abilities that rivaled even a vampire's.

Snape watched in amazement as the elf healed up rapidly before his eyes. His potions had never worked so well. The scientist in Snape made him curious and he ran more spells. It was fascinating. The elf's pain tolerance was very low, nerve endings much more sensitive than anything any human every had. The ears were especially something of interest. The amount of nerves in each ear was equal to those in penile tissue.

Snape raised an eyebrow when he read that from the diagnostic spells. Lucius _had_ always said house elves were masochists, now Snape knew why.

It also meant that the poor creatures could be hurt very easily, and tortured without much effort at all. Snape recalled the elf's habit of twisting it's ear for self punishment and grimaced. Exactly why was it necessary to put such spells on the creatures? Or did the species have a fondness for pain as Lucius had always maintained. It was difficult to say, without knowing the exact spells present, and how they were applied.

Another thing Snape found interesting was the fact that house elves could heal so well, the lack of scars proved that, without a special diet such as Snape had. What was feeding this creature the power to heal to such dramatic degree? Was it the presence of their magic that did it? Was it something in their diet after all? All Snape had seen his elf eat was fruits and sweets; he'd nearly had to threaten the thing to get it to eat eggs and as Snape couldn't stand the smell of cooked meat he didn't know out it reacted to it.

Snape was snapped out his distraction by his house elf's moan. Blinking he studied the creature. It was blinking rapidly, obviously trying to wake, and there was a distinct lack of pain in its movement. No sign of the torture lingered and while Snape would have liked to credit his potions for this he knew better. More importantly the elf was waking from a potion induced coma without an antidote and much sooner than that potion was supposed to allow.

Green eyes opened finally and after a moment focused on Snape widening when memory returned. Guilt crept into those eyes and Snape smiled cruelly. Yes, the elf was sorry now after being caught but not half as sorry as it would be when Snape was through.

"Explain," he began very quietly, "where you went today, elf."

The house elf's eyes began to tear. It licked it's lips nervously before answering. "P-paddy can't explain, Master." It finally said quietly.

Snape scowled. "Why _not_?"

The elf's eyes began to water. "I's sorry, Master!" It wailed. "I's can't tell house elf secret! I's a bad elf, Master. I's deserve punishment-"

"Yes you do!" Snape interrupted forcefully. "You deserve punishment by _my_ hand, elf, not some spell I didn't cast and don't know the particulars of. Not the _Cruciatus_ which I found you writhing under. Tell me, elf, who cast it?"

But the elf had dissolved into tears and babbling excuses not of which were the explanation he'd been hoping for. It was pointless to continue, apparently the elf was so distraught by it's inability to obey that it was incoherent.

But Snape could be very patient when he wanted to.

Grimacing at the necessity he sat down and grabbed the elf, pulling it into his lap. He'd done this before, perhaps all of two times, with his Slytherins. It had been awkward but necessary. Both times he'd been comforting a child mourning the death of a parent, it had been the least he could offer after he'd either witnessed or participated in the torture and killing of said parent. Now he was just comforting a house elf, who was unhappy but certainly not grieving as far a Snape knew.

He must be going soft in his old age. The lack of having to maim and torture people had weakened the casing around his heart. Snorting at that visual he petted the creature's hair, careful to stay away from the ears. It's tears had soaked into his robes and the noises it made were muffled. It this was Potter what could have made the boy unhappy enough to cry?

In all the time Snape had known him he'd never seen the boy cry. It had been a marked difference from himself as a child. When he had been young his rage had always brought tears. It had earned him his nickname, Snivellus. Potter and Black had made it a game between them to see who could make his tears fall first. The winner would take a picture for his collection.

Perhaps he'd been too hard on the creature. After all, elves were sensitive enough physically, perhaps their emotions were just as volatile.

"Enough, elf." Snape finally whispered. "Your tears are unnecessary now." He ignored his guilt at trying to stop the creature. "I am no longer angry with you."

There was the distinct sound of a hiccup before the elf seemed to quiet. Snape let it stay on his lap, hoping it wouldn't start again. Occasionally it shuddered but didn't start wailing. Snape found himself stroking it's back and head, a hand stroking it's hair. Such unusual hair the elf had; extremely fine, which led to it's softness, and a peculiar white color. Its ears poked out from the sides of it's head, hair standing in tuffs around them.

Suddenly curious, Snape touched one, and felt the elf stiffen. He was probably hurting it, Snape supposed, but curiosity gripped him and he let a finger stroke the smallest patch of skin on the tip of the elf's ear. The elf shuddered, almost violently, and Snape, suddenly remembering his spell readings, let his hand fall away. The silken feel of the elf's skin seemed to linger on the tip of his finger though and he rubbed it against the coarser weave of his robes to rid himself of that feeling.

Suddenly embarrassed Snape searched for something to say.

"My father," his voice cracked in surprise. He hadn't meant to say that. "My father used to tell me not to cry." Snape winced at how loud his voice sounded in the nearly empty room. "That expressing emotion was a weakness." Snape scowled at the memory that invoked. "It turned out he was right, but for the longest time, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the tears when they came."

A small hand, too big for the elf but still small, fisted itself in his robes. It showed that it was listening and Snape felt safer in continuing.

"One day, after I had succumbed to a fit of tears, a friend of mine found me."

He remembered hearing her footsteps long before she would have seen him, knowing it was her by the anklet she wore made of bells. She had taken to wearing it that year and he could always hear her coming. He'd told her once that it was a bad idea to wear it; what if she were trying to hide? Just a twist of her leg would give her away. She'd smiled and said she loved the sound because it reminded her, whenever she heard it, of who gave it to her.

She'd stopped wearing it at the end of the year, just after they'd taken their OWLs.

"I remember the sound she made when she saw it was me. A 'tisk' of sorts, that also sounded like an 'oh' and also like an 'ah'." Snape knew he wasn't making sense but didn't, couldn't stop and correct himself, lest he not start again. "She knelt down beside me, and touched my hair, the only one who ever did including my mother who always said my hair was too dirty to touch, and she said my name as if mourning something like a dove dying or a flower wilting. I kept my head turned away, unable to look at her, certain I'd tear up again. She didn't object. She just sat there with me stroking my hair until long after we both were supposed to be in class."

Snape could hear how hoarse he sounded but couldn't stop. The memory, with it's retelling, was stronger than it had been in years and Snape could almost feel her fingers once again.

"And then she leaned over and kissed my head, a single drop of lips on my hair, and I couldn't stop a single tear from escaping." The elf shuddered very gently once. "'It is such a secret place, the land of tears.' She whispered very softly as if quoting something." Later, on a whim he'd looked up the phrase and found it came from a muggle work called The Little Prince.

Snape didn't speak again and the elf didn't answer. It was fine. It was simply a shame the elf wasn't Potter after all. He would have like for Potter to hear about that side of Lily.

* * *

**Thanks reading and reviewing. (Fitful, still sick, feels much more the thing after reading such kind reviews.)**

**The Little Prince is by French aviator Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and was published in 1943. "It is such a secret place, the land of tears." is a direct quote and does not belong to me. If you google you can read quite a bit of it.  
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**I feel it necessary to apologize for making Draco into such a distasteful character. Yes my goal was to make you dislike him, but also to point out that a spoiled rich child might just act as he does in this story, and to also set him up to do something for me later in the plot. I also, amazingly, found Draco and Ginny easy to right. I know, scary, huh?**

**Fitful**


	17. Chapter 17

**If you want to spend four paragraphs disagreeing w/ a plot idea in my story, please have the decency to register w/ fan fiction . net or leave an email, so I may defend it. It is cowardly to debate a thing then leave before you hear the rebuttal.  
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**Also, THIS IS FANFICTION! If you can't handle authors making up things, changing canon, picking what parts of canon to use, making ocs and ooc characters then don't read it. **

**For those to whom the above didn't apply to, enjoy the chapter. Be aware that this is where the M rating come in.**

**Fitful  
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**warning:** here snape makes harry do really gross things that have nothing to do with sex.

oh and then sexual things happen that have nothing to do with the gross things.

you can skip 'em by stop reading after snape agrees to a snack.

**C**hapter Seventeen

Harry was being punished.

He'd known he'd have to be, after being so disobedient, after lying even when Snape told him specifically to tell him where he'd gone. Harry couldn't of course, if he had Snape would have been able to figure out Harry was Harry.

And for some reason, something had changed, and Harry didn't want him to find out. If he did, well Harry was quite sure there wouldn't be any more holding-Harry-as-he-cried sessions, and certainly Snape wouldn't have a reason to be nice to him. Snape hated him, hated Harry Potter rather, and if he knew his house elf was Harry, well he doubted life would be this good.

And really, what had been his reason before? He'd wanted to go back to being human. Snape could, possibly, find a way to change him back, if he were so inclined, but it was highly unlikely. It was more realistic to think he'd not even bother and give Harry clothes and send him off to live with Malfoy or something. Given Harry's luck it would be _Draco_ Malfoy.

And what was so great about being human anyway? His marriage was over, his job was a joke, and he couldn't even eat out in public for fear of being mobbed. The only thing Harry really missed was Ron and Hermione. His friends were really the only thing he cared about. Which, when you looked at it, was rather sad. Harry snorted. Everyone thought being Harry Potter was so great. But here he was, preferring being a house elf than himself.

And just what was so wrong with being a house elf? They were happy creatures who, if well taken care of and treated nicely, were quite loyal and handy with magic. Anyone would want one and it was perfectly understandably, if one knew what Harry knew, that someone might want to be one. Snape took good care of him, fed him, gave him a room and a bed. Admittedly he often crept into said bed and drank his blood but even that wasn't so bad. Once Harry had gotten over the squeamish feeling he'd had about it then he thought it was rather normal. At least it meant Snape wasn't out there killing people like other vampire were rumored to.

And so Harry decided he was going to remain Snape's house elf forever.

It was rather a monumental decision and perhaps a bit weird considering he was currently swimming in a pool of blood. If someone were to question his sanity he'd really understand as he himself briefly had the thought it might be bad to make such life changing decisions when he was under such emotional duress.

Of course, given the state he was in, he really thought it was very logical. If he were wanted to get away from Snape, if he found him and his preferences disagreeable, then now would be the perfect time to realize it. After all it wasn't a fun thing to be face first in a pile of guts.

"Don't tug, you will end up breaking them, which will make things much more difficult later, when we put them back." Snape scowled from his towering position over Harry who was kneeling on the floor, suffering his punishment.

"Yes, Master." He replied dutifully in a weak voice. He was very tired, and hoarse from the workout his voice had gotten.

"Do not complain." Snape snapped although Harry hadn't even dreamed of doing so. "You deserve this after rushing off without thinking about the consequences."

_Squelch_ was the sound wet bloody guts made when dropped into a pool of blood and Harry shuddered as the sound echoed in the dungeon cell. "Yes, Master." Harry replied dutifully once again. "Paddy deserves punishment. Bad elves get big bag punishments so theys not be bad again."

His hand felt around in the open cavity for a long moment before it encountered the rip he'd been looking for. Carefully he tugged the intestines out, pulling on them like rope, his hand slipping with the new slickness he had uncovered. Foulness reached his nose, almost making him sick up, and he was certain he'd found it. A rip in the intestines meant feces leaked out into the body, the result of the knife wound of course, and Harry was pulling out the guts in order to reach that rip and let Snape heal it.

"I's found it, Master." Harry said, feeling very faint, perhaps at the loss of blood.

Snape smiled satisfied his eyes glittering in the elf light-orb Harry had created when they first arrived. "Very good, elf. It's almost over now."

Careful not to step in the blood or on the pile of intestines on the floor Snape approached with his wand. A quickly muttered healing spell and the chore was over. Harry sighed in relief. Then Snape smirked cruelly.

"Now, elf." Snape said make his way back to where the stone wasn't covered in blood. "Clean up the shit left inside and begin putting the intestine back."

Harry moaned and wanted to throw up but knew better. If he was good and finished his punishment Snape promised he could sleep. They'd been going at this all night and he was really exhausted. Grimly he used a light cleaning spell, elf magic of course, to clean out the brown dribbling feces until he couldn't smell the barest scent of crap. Then slowly, careful not to step on anything, he fed the guts back into the open cavity. It took a while, he had to be careful, and he kept slipping and sliding on the blood that made the stone cell slick.

Finally the intestines were back where they belonged and Harry was finished.

"Done, Master." Harry called very faintly.

Snape didn't answer but walked over to Harry, this time ignoring the blood, and inspected Harry's work. Finally he nodded and set his wand to the wound and muttered a spell. Slowly the wound healed up and Harry sighed as blood no longer poured unchecked from where it shouldn't.

"Very good, elf." Snape said softly, a bit tiredly. "You did very well, your punishment is over."

Harry perked up at that.

"After you clean up this mess." Snape smiled as Harry's ears wilted. "I will take Amahassri back to Lord Sui and when I return I expect you to be finished."

Harry nodded in dismay and, gritting his teeth, sank to his knees to begin.

Amahassri was a Golden Smoker, a dragon that more resembled a basilisk than a dragon. She was one of Lord Sui's four dragon guardians, who protected him night and day from any and all who wished to do him harm. Apparently she had been hurt in an attack on his Palace and had refused to let any heal her. All healing spells directed at the large knife wound on her belly had been deflected by dragon scales.

Snape had offered to help, if he could have his fill of any blood lost. As Snape was apparently a well known Potions Master under his alias too his help had been accepted. Little did Harry know he would be roped into doing disgusting things for Snape as punishment.

As he was a Parselmouth, Snape reasoned Harry might be able to make headway with the stubborn dragon, as it looked remarkably similar to a serpent, baring the four legs it had. Harry had found the thing could understand him, if he shouted, and had yelled himself hoarse trying to explain that they only wanted to heal her and they had to have hear asleep to do so.

Finally she had agreed to sleep and eaten a sleeping potion soaked sheep. But Snape had found complications. While the knife wound healed with a liberal dose of a potion there was internal bleeding and a cut that had compromised her digestion system. They'd been forced to cut open the dragon and pull out her intestines in order to find the wound.

Or rather _Harry_ had to do it because he was undergoing punishment for disappearing and then not being able to tell his master where he disappeared off to.

Snape had cast a spell on the cell they were in that soaked up all the untainted blood and spirited it away for storage. He'd also cast a spell that snapped up anything that might be useful, such as scales, teeth, bone, saliva, venom, etc. Harry's job was to clean up the remaining bloodstains without magic.

Blood dripping down his arm from where the dragon's claw had accidentally got him when she tossed from the pain in her sleep, Harry finished and made his way back to the potion's lab. The wound hadn't closed due to the dragon's poisonous nature and Harry had begun to feel light headed from blood loss an hour ago. He'd refused to tell Snape, arguing he did deserve the punishment, and perhaps a bit of pain, after being such a terrible, disobedient, lying, bad house elf.

But Harry had decided, while he'd been up to his ears in dragon guts, that he wanted to stay with Snape. Snape, so far, was the only one who ever gave a damn about whether or not Harry did stuff like telling the truth and letting someone know when he was leaving. It was a refreshing change. And it had nothing, absolutely not a single thing, to do with the fact that Snape had held him when he cried about how terrible it was to loose Ginny.

And it certainly _wasn't _because for the first time Harry had someone who knew what he was going through to relate with. After all Snape had never married his mum, in fact Harry doubted that they'd ever kissed. So there was no reason for him to liken himself to Snape in anyway.

Even if Harry had learned long ago not to cry because when you did the person who made you cry always hit harder afterwords.

Snape was back when Harry arrived. He was very occupied with scribbling something but looked up suddenly, his eyes suddenly very black, when Harry got near.

"Can I not leave you alone for an hour, elf, before you go and find a way to get yourself hurt!" Snape scowled fiercely and rose, quill discarded, stalking over to Harry with heavy footfalls. Harry blinked and looked up into those black eyes as Snape grabbed his arm and pulled Harry to him. The grip on his arm hurt but Snape's concern made Harry's little elf heart warm.

Muttering about dunderheads Snape poked the scratch, ignoring Harry's hiss of pain, and then let his arm drop suddenly. Blinking he took a step back and then turned and stalked over to the wall where he muttered a word and disappeared into a suddenly visible door.

Harry frowned at his Master's strange behavior, Snape usually wasn't so grumpy about having to use his potions, puzzling for a minute. Then it hit him. He could have laughed when he realized it.

Snape was hungry.

Well of course he was, it had been, Harry counted in his head, almost two days since he'd eaten last. Err, drank last. Harry was unsure of the verb one used in regard to vampire's feeding. Not that it mattered. What mattered was feeding Snape. His master. Who was hungry.

Snape came back, stalking across the lab and making his robes billow, reminding Harry of the good old days when he was human and Snape was alive. And Harry hated him and Snape hated Harry. Oh and Voldey was still around. Guess they hadn't been that good then.

Blood loss was making Harry loopy, for the next thing he knew was Snape leading him out of the potion's lab and upstairs to the kitchen. Then Harry was on his bed and Snape was putting an awful smelling gloop on his dragon scratch. Then he was standing and instructing Harry to go to sleep and _not_ get up until Snape woke him in the morning. Then Snape was leaving. Harry's eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't go, Master." He cried suddenly, causing Snape to turn around in surprise.

"And why not?" Snape asked, an eyebrow raised in surpise before he frowned looking suspicious. "I don't tell bedtime stories, elf." He snapped his eyes narrowing.

Harry laughed and shook his head. "No, Master. Paddy just thought," Harry reached up nervously and touched the tip of his ear before twisting it a bit. Snape frown deepened and Harry hurried to finish. "Master might be hungry?" Harry watched as Snape blinked in surprise. "Paddy feed Master? Yes?"

Snape didn't reply but his frown deepened. "No, elf. You've lost enough blood for one day. Sleep." He turned to go.

"Master give Paddy a potion!" Harry called and Snape turned back around. Smiling Harry continued. "Potion for homoglobin." Harry tried to sound very serious.

Snape snorted. "Hemoglobin, elf." He corrected and ran a hand through his hair wearily. "And it is beside the point-"

"But Paddy has to take care of Master!" Harry cried interrupting Snape. "Master is hungry and Paddy has food." Harry sighed. "Must feed Master."

Snape stared at him and Harry could tell he was tempted. He pressed a bit more. "Just a tiny drink, Master? Until hemoglobin is better tomorrow and Master can have his fill?"

Snape hesitated for a moment longer before stepping back into the room. "Just a small amount, elf." He warned as if Harry was the vampire and he the reluctant sacrifice.

Harry grinned at him utterly amused. "Yes, Master." He said suddenly feeling much better. His heart was beating a little faster and he bounced on the bed as Snape slowly made his way over.

Snape scowled at his bouncing and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, which was effective, and then pushed him back so he could sit. Harry obligingly moved, suddenly thrilled that Snape was here. What was wrong with him? Did the thought of Snape in his bed make him so giddy that he had to act like a love-sick school gir-

Harry choked a bit on the thought. Oh. Well shit.

Snape was pushing him down, murmuring at him to rest, that if he fell asleep it was fine and he, Snape, wouldn't be mad. Then reminding him _not_ to get up in the morning, that he must wait for Snape's permission. Harry just rolled his eyes, grinning when Snape's narrowed at that, and fidgeted wanting Snape to get on with it.

Which Snape did, rather quickly after all his gentlemanly protest, and Harry gasped as the bite came with pain and the smell of Snape's shampoo. And then Snape drank and Harry just laid there. There was no question of Harry sleeping. The bond was humming with his master's content and Harry was giddy with the pleasure that came from obeying and pleasing his master.

In fact Harry was quite certain it couldn't get much better-

-until it did. Snape, while he drank, seemed to _melt_ into Harry and suddenly his arm was sliding across Harry's belly to take a firm grip on his other side and pull him into Snape. His other hand seemed to wander near Harry's neck until he arched it to meet Snape's mouth more easily and it buried itself in his hair causing him to squeak. On the noise Snape bit harder, causing Harry to moan at the added pain before blinking in utter surprise.

It seemed house elves, despite it being unnecessary, had completely functioning anatomy. Or to put it crudely-

Harry was hard.

Well bloody hell this was a bad thing to have happen. If Snape figured it out Harry was sure to be given clothes. The poor man would probably be so horrified he'd chuck Harry out on his ear. After all Harry was a _boy_ err man, and a _house elf_ on top of it. Harry knew he might possibly lean that way, after fantasies he'd had he'd been forced to consider it, but with Ginny around there had never been the need.

And _Snape_ certainly didn't. After all he was still in love with Harry's _mum_ and dear god he was in love with Harry's mum. Harry gulped. If Snape found out Harry would be dead. And his poor master would be utterly traumatized. Oh dear. Bad Harry. Very bad Harry. Bad house elf hormones and sensitive emotions and empathy thingy.

Ill at ease Harry tried to shift the lower portion of himself away from Snape who, while Harry had been panicking, had moved fully on to the bed and was once again _cuddling_ him. Harry whimpered a bit as Snape's hand shifted and nearly brushed against his erection, that was only covered by robes and a pair of trousers and a set of underwear, definitely _not_ enough to hide the fact that it was there from Snape who was moaning just a bit and rubbing a hand against Harry's thigh.

And dear god this needed to stop. Harry couldn't think. He was getting short of breath, Snape's teeth were buried in his neck and he could bloody _feel_ them stabbing him. Curiously there was a distinct lack of pain, just the feeling of bone and Snape's thumb rubbing closer and closer to his-

And then Snape's other thumb brushed his ear and Harry exploded. The world went white and he could feel himself arching beneath the pleasure of it and oh dear now Snape would know!

But Snape didn't do anything like pull away or run off into the hills to get away from Harry. He, if anything, pulled Harry closer and his hand ran up and down the front of Harry, over the erection that was softening, in an almost _encouraging_ way, causing little sparks of pleasure that enhanced Harry's afterglow. Harry was shaking from the aftermath of it, and gasping as Snape started to pull his fangs out-

And Harry whined in protest when they left, sure that now Snape would hate him, because he'd utterly ruined any change he might have had.

And Snape was murmuring something in his ear, a soft reassurance, and pulling him closer. Harry realized he was babbling apologies.

"-so sorry, master, didn't mean it, sossorry Paddy's badelf."

But Snape was countering his apologies in an exasperated voice. "Not a bad elf, no. Very good elf. A very sweet, silly creature." And Harry shuddered because he'd never thought anyone would say that to him, and he'd never thought _Snape_ could say such kind things.

In fact he didn't really believe it. It must be a trick. Snape didn't quite know what happened. Harry had to tell him so Snape could punish him properly. "Paddy did, so sorry Master! Paddy _came-_" Harry couldn't say it and merely mouthed the word.

Snape bit him again, harshly, and Harry gasped in pain. Then Snape let go. "Be silent, elf" He suddenly snapped and Harry closed his eyes.

This was it. Snape was going to give him clothes, he tell him to leave, he might even kick him, and then what would Harry do? Perhaps he could find Hermione? She'd treat him nicely, give him a room, let him wash her and Ron's clothes if he begged and said it made him happy. But oh, Hermione wasn't a vampire. There would be no nightly feeding, no wonderful black eyes watching Harry, no sneering comments that made Harry laughed instead of hurting his feelings because he could feel the lie through the bond-

"Now listen very carefully." Snape was quiet and sounded sleepy. "You are _not_ bad. That was called an orgasm-" He tripped over the word as if embarassed. "It happens to everyone, when they get older. The feeding-" And now Snape sounded guilty. "made you orgasm. It happens quite often, which is why it's ideal to take a sexual partner for a blood donor in case of misunderstandings such as this."

Harry breathing evened out during Snape's explanation but his heart continued to race.

"I should move back to America." Snape muttered as he buried his face in Harry's neck. He didn't bite this time, just nuzzled the place where he'd bitten.

Harry shuddered and focused on breathing.

Snape's explanation made sense, in a twisted vampiry sorta way. Of course feeding might arouse you, there was biting, and lots of physical contact, and something that had to make the victim ignore the pain and not scream as their life's blood was being drained away. But did Snape mention this before hand? No. Because he must have known if he did Harry would-

-have offered anyway. Bloody Hell he might have begged. Snape was his master, he needed to please his master, and if pleasing his master brought him pleasure than all the more reason to do it.

Still. Snape could have said _something_. Then Harry wouldn't have acted so stupidly when the whole orgasm thing happened. And he'd truly panicked, thinking Snape wasn't going to want him anymore, which hadn't been fun. In fact he was still a little uncertain.

Which might be why Snape was still here. His face was buried in Harry's neck and he was making sniffing sounds. Like he was _smelling_ him. Harry snorted. Snape like to smell people. Snape was a little weird.

The shudders that kept coming might have been from his fit of panic but were probably the aftermath of his rather impressive orgasm. Harry shook his head, bemused by the whole thing. He wasn't a stranger to sex, bloody hell he'd been married to a redhead for four years. According to Hermione, in a rather embarrassing conversation, redheads had excellently stamina in the bedroom. Harry privately thought her conclusion was flawed because she never considered the fact that both of them had only ever been with Weasleys.

But Harry had never felt like that.

Perhaps it had been the fact he was a house elf and everything always felt _more_ somehow. Or perhaps it was the bond, being able to feel his partner's emotions during the whole thing might make a normal intimate encounter that much more intimate. Or it could be the vampire thing. A result of blood loss, or whatever made the pain fade, or some kinky biting blood thing or well anything. There was the fact that Snape was a man, maybe that made Harry gay and he'd never known it before. It could even be some hidden kink he had with the master/slave thing.

Or it could just be Snape. Harry could just like Snape an awful lot, and because _Snape_ gave him the orgasm it had been enough to send him to the moon. A quick trip but still the moon and whoever really objected going there? After all Snape was wonderful. He was tall, and powerful, just a bit dark, he had these amazing eyes, and his hair made Harry's toes curl. Oh and his smirk, and his voice, and his long pale fingers-

Harry decided he _didn't_ want to remain a house elf after all.

It would just be too weird. And it would complicate things. Snape sighed against Harry's neck and Harry felt a curious lack of emotion through the bond- Oh. Harry smirked. Snape had fallen asleep. Well that was okay with Harry. Harry was sleepy too.

Absently Harry cast a cleaning charm and then one that pulled the blankets over them both. Then carefully he shifted so he could look at Snape.

Snape looked like Snape. Even when he was asleep he looked like he was going to bite someone's head off at any moment. There was no peaceful, content, innocent Snape when he slept. He was all lines and harsh angles and his nose seemed to stick out more than when he was upright.

Harry thought he looked fabulous.

He chuckled at his choice of word. Perhaps he was gay after all. A finger dared to dart up and touch Snape's hair. The roots seemed a bit oily, it was true, but the ends near his face were soft to the touch. Harry sighed. Okay. He was going to stay with Snape. As a human. As Harry Potter.

Now the only thing to do was figure out how.

**Horny House Elf Harry. Can you say that five time fast? **

**And yes I **_**know**_** what your going to say, but I couldn't resist. After all how can you have a snarry without any err snarry? I mean can you image? **

**Snape was also ooc, sorry about that. If you had any problems reading chpt 16 I also apologize, fan fiction . net was having problems yesterday.**


	18. Chapter 18

**warning:** here harry talks to malfoys, a black, and two ocs.

oh and something bad happens to snape.

**C**hapter **E**ighteen

**Harry Potter Alive! **

A few days ago Harry Potter smuggled himself into St. Mungos,

by way of house elf, disguised as a teenage boy. Claiming amnesia he

disappeared soon after. Ginny Potter was unavailable for comment.

Snape sighed, a disappointed one it sounded like. "Oh look, Potter's alive. Fancy that."

Harry peeked at him from where he was frying eggs. Snape looked unconcerned but the bond told Harry he was slightly relieved. Harry hid a smile and finished the eggs. As he was bringing them over to the table Snape stiffened. His eyes narrowed at Harry.

"You didn't happen to smuggle Harry Potter into St. Mungos recently did you, elf?" He looked at Harry suspiciously.

Harry's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to truthfully deny it-

-When the wards went off, telling him and Snape that someone had just come through the floo. Harry grinned. "Master has a guest." Harry announced cheerfully. "Paddy make tea?"

Snape was scowling in the direction of the sitting room, where the floo connection was, and waved at Harry to proceed before folded the paper and pushed himself away from the table. Looking murderous and muttering about ways to kill unwanted guests he stalked out of the room. Harry set the water to boil and fished out Snape's nice silver tea service.

"Do you know what my son has done!" Came the surprisingly loud voice of Lucius Malfoy. Harry paled and crept over over to the door to listen

"No, Lucius." Snape drawled grumpily. "Not precisely. I do imagine it was something unsuitable for a Malfoy?"

"Don't be flippant, Severus." Lucius practically snarled. "Your godson had out done himself this time."

Harry raised an snowy elf eyebrow. Malfoy was Snape's _godson_?

"Oh do tell, Lucy." Snape hissed. "I await the news with baited breath."

There was a long moment of silence where Harry imagined Snape smirking and Lucius looking horrified.

"Draco has knocked up Potter's wife." There was the sound of breaking glass and a shock of Snape's surprise through the bond. "Who gave birth two days ago."

"What!" Snape actually shouted.

"Don't you read the paper, Severus?" Came Lucius's tight reply. "It was on the front page of the Daily Prophet."

Snape's anger was coming through the bond in waves. "Are you sure the chit wasn't lying?"

"Positive," Lucius's sneer came through in the single word. "Draco told me himself. Right after," He hissed like a tea kettle. "he mentioned that he wanted to annul his marriage!"

"He's expecting a child!" Came Snape's own hiss.

"Claims it isn't his. That he hasn't touched his wife since the wedding night." Lucius growled.

"Ridiculous." Snape sounded utterly blown away. "What has he done? Potter will kill him."

"So I thought as well." Lucius snapped. "But it seems Potter cares less about his wife than we thought."

There was a long pause. Then Snape snapped, "Explain."

Lucius's footsteps could be heard as he started pacing. "I wrote the Daily Prophet, told them that Draco was with Potter's wife." He snarled in frustration before continuing. "I was hoping Potter would show up, demand his wife back, and scare Draco back to where he belongs. After all, Potter is _Potter_. He's the Boy Who Lived, the Wizarding World's Hero. He's a bloody Gryffindor. Of course he'd take his wife back after a silly case of infidelity! I could even imagine him raising the bastard of his childhood rival!"

There was the sound of another thing breaking, perhaps a glass this time. "But the blasted boy's bravery is vastly overrated. He not only _didn't_ show up but managed to become so estranged from his wife she agreed to marry my son!"

"Marry?" Came Snape's faint reply.

"Yes! A Weasley! In my family." Lucius was snarling like a bloodthirsty dog. "I'll not have it. I'll disown him first."

"Surely something can be done, Lucius." Snape replied cautiously. "Before resorting to drastic measures."

"Yes." Lucius hissed. "Which leads me to why I am here."

Snape's voice was suspicious when he spoke again. "Which is?"

Something slammed on wood, as if Lucius had slapped his hands down on a table. "I want you to find Harry Potter."

Silence. Then, "What!" An astonished Snape snapped. "May I remind you, I am supposed to be dead!"

"But you're not." Came the grim reply. "I am calling in every debt you owe me, Severus. I want you to find Harry Potter and bring him back here. Convince him to take back his whore of a wife even if you have to tell him Draco drugged her or some such nonsense."

"The out come would be terrible. Potter's an Auror; Draco would-"

"Let me deal with it. Just fix this, Severus." Then Lucius's voice turned pleading. "For the sake of your godson, if nothing else, who will be ruined if he goes through with this."

There was a long silence. "Because _you_ will disown him, disinherit him, make a pauper of your own son. Then what will you do, Lucius? Live forever?"

There was a dark chuckle that was not a happy sound. "If I must."

The water for tea was boiling over and Harry breathed out once before rushing over to tend it.

Bloody Hell he was glad Lucius Malfoy wasn't his dad. Harry snorted. Actually he was just glad his dad was safely dead at the moment. Considering who he was and who Harry wanted to pursue it was better all around. Especially, Harry amended grimly, if this was how purebloods acted towards their children.

The tea was ready to serve just as the floo alarm sounded once again. Harry was quick to grab it and pop into the other room so he could actually see what was going on this time. He was just in time to watch Draco Malfoy step out, looking very pale and determined.

Only to falter when he saw who was in the room. Harry froze, hoping to remain unnoticed, but needn't have worried. Malfoy had only eyes for his father and Snape. Quickly his eyes darted between them and his Adam's apple bobbed once before his expression blanked and it stilled.

Stupid Slytherins.

Without expression he turned away from Lucius, ignoring him, and strode over to Snape who was seated, almost slumped, in a wing back chair.

"I formally request asylum, as your godson, for myself and my child and my child's mother." Lucius hissed but Malfoy ignored him. "I rightly assume you are Severus Snape, correct?"

Snape studied him for a long moment before he looked at Lucius. "Did you tell the Minister too? Should I expect Aurors through the floo next?"

Lucius shook his head looking pained and Malfoy copied him with a single shake of his own head. "I over heard him tell Mother."

"Congratulations, Draco, I suppose you're here for me to wish you well." Snape's sneer was plain as was his irritation. "Perhaps offer a toast?"

Malfoy seemed to falter at the disapproval he saw. "No I- I need help."

"Yes," Lucius suddenly agreed. "Perhaps the mind healers in Peru."

Malfoy stiffened but didn't turn around. "_Severus._" His voice cracked. "I'm in danger."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that and sneered. "The only immediate danger I see threatening you is in this room."

Malfoy flinched and his blank expression broke, revealing the same panicked one Harry had seen on him in St. Mungos. "Potter is going to kill me!" He suddenly burst out in outright panic. "If you don't protect me I will be dead! Perhaps Ginny too. I-"

"Ginny?" Snape's query was like a whip.

Malfoy looked disconcerted. "Ginerva. Potter's," he swallowed, "wife. I- I mean we-" He stopped seeing Snape's face grow darker.

"I see." Snape said very softly. "You found her attractive. You didn't love you're wife so you thought to amuse yourself."

Malfoy shook his head. "I wasn't- It's not like that." His face hardened. "I love her."

"And you thought putting her and yourself in danger would be the ideal way to profess said love!" Snape shot the accusation at him like a curse. Malfoy grew even more pale. "You must have known how your father would react, what you'd face from your _wife_ and her family, and how Potter would see it. The son of a death eater, who was one himself, who also was his very nemesis at school! Surely you must have known Potter would think the worst!"

Malfoy stepped back from the force of Snape's rage. "I would never hurt Ginny!"

"That will not be how Potter sees it!" Snape snapped. "And if, let us just suppose, it all works out well with Potter, how do you think the public will react?" Malfoy seemed to sway and Harry smirked at him wanting to cheer Snape on. "The Wizarding World loves Potter. Do you think they will welcome you and his _whore_ of a wife with open arms? That your life will just continue on with your actions unremarked?"

Hate seemed to spark in Malfoy's eyes when he heard the word whore. Harry, rather, felt . . . vindicated. He'd been wanting to think of her that way but hadn't dared.

"I want to marry her, Severus. I want us to be a family and I'm willing to face being disinherited to do it." Malfoy looked earnest but shaken.

Snape looked disgusted. "I don't believe you. I think the little slut got her hooks into you and made you believe this utter nonsense. You sound like a bloody parrot."

"I love her!" He suddenly shouted. "I love her and I'm doing it for her! If you only knew . . . If you felt as I do. What else could I have done?" He was beginning to sound more and more like a child being denied a toy.

"You should have suffered!" Snape suddenly roared. "You should have loved her from afar and left her in peace!" He'd risen from his chair and was now towering over Malfoy. "You should have buried your love and hidden it from view, as an Slytherin would do with an honest treasure! You should have dreamed of Potter's death due to Gryffindor stupidity in the line of duty one day and hoped her heart didn't die with him so you could one day pick up the pieces." Snape was hissing now, so close to Malfoy he was spitting in his face. "You should have died before you ever did anything that might bring her harm. Such as impregnating her _while she was Potter's wife._" Snape's voice was low and the pain coming through the bond made Harry's heart ache. "If you truly love her you would forget this nonsense and go home."

Malfoy looked like his world had ended. Harry almost felt sorry for him. The child was being forced to grow up and it was a very hard lesson. Harry grinned. It was about time.

But he'd underestimated Malfoy. The blank expression was back, and a careful step backward took him out of Snape's range. "I see you are no help, Godfather." He nodded, almost politely. "I'll just take my leave then."

Lucius decided to poke his nose in finally. "Are you honestly going to follow through with this, Draco?" His eyes were cold as he looked at his son. He could have been asking whether he was sure he wanted chicken for dinner instead of fish.

Malfoy stiffened and if possible grew more blank. "I am, Father."

Lucius's eyes glittered. "Then I, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, Disown you, Draconis Lucius Malfoy. From this moment henceforth you are not a Malfoy, you are not my son. You will not inherit, nor will you or your progeny ever benefit from my wealth and endeavors. You're wife remains my daughter, and is henceforth my only child. You unborn son, will be my heir. You are _disowned_, Draco."

Malfoy swayed as if ready to faint. He turned to look at Snape, a child's look of abandonment in his eyes. Snape glanced away, and Harry saw a light in Malfoy's eyes die.

But still he tried. "You will not help me, Godfather?" He said softly.

And Harry felt Snape's anger like ice through the bond. "I have no godson I can name." Harry winced. Ouch Snape. That might have been a bit harsh.

Malfoy's upper lip curled and his expression grew ugly. "Wrong answer, Snape." He suddenly hissed. "I know who you are. I can tell the Ministry and you'll be arrested. With Dumbledore dead, by your hand, and Potter not here to cry over your grave, who will speak for you?" His eyes glittered with vindication. "Still made your choice?"

Snape stared at him in utter disgust. "I do not pander to childish temper tantrums, Draco." His voice was very cold. "And if you do decide to tell the Ministry who you _think_ I am I will be forced to retaliate by bringing Potter back here."

Harry shivered at Snape's spat Potter. Malfoy shivered as well.

"You c-can't," he stuttered. "Potter's missing."

Snape smiled viciously. "I know where he is."

Harry's blood seemed to freeze in his veins. Bloody _Hell_.

The ward alarms sounded and the floo activated. Then Aurors came though.

Noble Worthe and Sanborn Ada were Aurors Harry was unfamiliar with. They were older than Harry but not experienced enough for Harry to have been trained by them. He had heard they were both muggleborn, worked well together, and were sticklers for following protocol. And now they were in a house full of dark wizards, one of which was a vampire. Superb.

Worthe was dark skinned, and tall. His robes were pale green and brown and he stood where he landed and simply took in his surroundings. Harry noticed Worthe even taking _Harry_ in and was reluctantly impressed. Although perhaps he shouldn't be, as most muggleborn did tend to notice house elves where as purebloods dismissed them. Ada didn't notice Harry though, he looked around once and then kept his eyes on Malfoy, even to the point of ignoring Lucius. He wore brown as well, but black lined his open robes, showing muggle clothes beneath them, and his dark hair was nearly a coordinating match.

"Draco Malfoy?" Ada asked, although it was clear he knew who he was talking to.

Lucius grinned, a baring of the teeth really. "There no longer is a wizard called Draco Malfoy as I claim no such person as kin. Perhaps you meant Draco Black?"

Ada shifted his gaze while Lucius talked and a sneer was clear on his tan face by the time Lucius' had finished. "I believe I said Draco Malfoy, whom this young man meets description of." It was clear he thought pureblood theatrics ridiculous.

Malfoy sneered at Ada. "I am Draco Black." He announced as if proud of it most likely unaware he sounded just like Lucius.

Worthe decided to take over. "You are suspect in the disappearance and currently absence of Harry Potter. We require you for questioning."

Malfoy sneered but panic had entered his eyes. "I require asylum from Potter. I don't know where he is but he is sure to kill me, in light of recent discoveries. Will the Ministry grant this?"

Ada rolled his eyes. "The Ministry is not in a position to grant asylum to unrecognized citizens. If you come with us we can sort out the issues of your last name and see about getting you that asylum. It might take a while, you understand, so it would be a good idea to save time by answering our questions."

Worthe nodded and stepped forward. "If you'll come with us, I have a portkey."

Malfoy stepped back, pale and uncertain. "If I go to the Ministry Potter could find me!" He protested loudly. "I'd be a sitting duck!"

"We of the Ministry will make sure that no harm comes to you." Worthe soothed. "Auror Potter will conduct himself with the utmost cor-"

"No!" Malfoy yelled. "No! I refuse. I am not going to waltz into Potter's stronghold-"

"Draco, do get a hold of yourself." Lucius snapped. "If the Ministry guarantees you safely you have nothing to fear." He shrugged. "Unless you think Potter has more power than the Malfo-" He stopped as if struck by a thought. "Oh that's right. You aren't a Malfoy anymore. And Potter just happens to be the head of the house of Black as well. What have you gotten yourself into, little Dragon. Don't you know stealing from others nest's is only amusing until you get caught?"

Malfoy was obviously panicking now. He had backed up and kept looking at the window behind him as if trying to decide if he could jump out it.

Snape rolled his eyes as well and spoke up for the first time since the Aurors arrived. "Black, stop this nonsense. I doubt you did anything to Potter so just go with the Aurors and tell them that. Take Veritiserum if you must. Your childish theatrics have become tiresome."

Malfoy snapped. "Shut up!" He yelled and drew his wand. "Silencio." He spat and the spell sped towards Snape.

Harry didn't even think, house elf instincts or Gryffindor ones taking effect, but he had a shield up to protect his master before Malfoy had even finished the word. It proved a bad call as, although it _did_ stop the spell, it also brought Malfoy's attention to himself.

Malfoy's eyes widened and he looked frantically between Harry and Snape, realization dawning. His eyes landed on Snape. "You." He whispered. "I thought it had been Potter but it was you!"

Snape frowned, glancing once at Harry before turning his attention back to Malfoy. "Black," he began and Malfoy's eyes hardened and turned to ice.

"I don't know where Potter is," he announced coldly. "But Severus Snape claims he does." He motioned to Snape with a careless hand. "Ask him yourself if you must." His upper lip curled as he watched Snape's face clear of expression.

Both Worthe and Ada looked at Snape with suddenly renewed interest.

"Severus Snape is recorded as deceased by the Ministry." Ada suddenly announced. "It is rather remarkable that this wizard looks much like his description."

Worthe nodded. "Indeed. Perhaps, a case of mistaken identity? Of course the wizard is now a suspect as well."

Ada grinned. "Guess we'll have a few questions for him too, hmm?"

"If you'll come with us, Sir?" Worthe asked Snape while Ada sidled over to Malfoy and then grabbed him suddenly. They both disappeared. Snape stared at the dark man for a long while before he nodded his assent.

"If it will clear up matters, I will comply." Worthe smiled as if in reward and Snape grimaced and started toward him. Harry suddenly panicked.

"Master!" He cried, getting Snape's attention. Snape's eyes snapped to him. "I's help, Master?" He offered hoping to clear up this mess.

Snape grimaced again. "No, elf." He said shortly. "Do nothing." Harry shook his head. Like hell! Snape's eyes grew hard. "I will make it an order elf, do not interfere!"

He picked up pace and reached Worthe quickly. With a nod to Lucius he looked at Worthe expectantly. The Auror's mouth turned up and he pulled a toffee from his pocket, presumably the portkey.

But Harry couldn't do nothing! He gripped his ear in a firm grasp and stepped forward. Snape was watching him and snapped at Worthe to hurry. Then the portkey was in his hand and both Snape and Worthe were swallowed up and gone.

Harry wanted to wail. This was all his fault! The grip on his ear, painful enough to cause tears, helped assuage his guilt but not by much. While Harry was panicking Lucius Malfoy had stepped to the mantle and took a fistful of floo powder in hand. Carelessly he threw it on the fire, which flared green. His eyes met Harry's for the first time.

"I suggest you find Potter if you want your Master to live, elf." He said coolly before calling out Malfoy Manor and disappearing in flames.

Harry trembled with the effort it took to suppress tears. Find Harry Potter. Like that was so easy. If the entire wizarding world couldn't do it what made Malfoy think he could?

Oh yeah, that's right. He _was_ Harry Potter, once upon a time. Piss and sod. That fact actually might make his task harder.

**I'm so pleased you enjoyed horney house elf harry. Your kind reviews meant a lot. **

**I am very pleased with how this chapter came out. Everyone stays perfectly in character, I do apologize again for Snape's brief relaxation of his Snapeishness last chapter. **

**Now what will Harry do next? Will Snape be found out? Does Draco die, err, dump Ginny? Tune in this evening to find out. **

**Fitful.**


	19. Chapter 19

**warning**: here harry gets sidekicks.

**C**hapter **N**ineteen.

That afternoon it occurred to Harry that he could apparate.

He'd spent the morning frantically pacing, sure his Master was undergoing horrible treatment and it was all his fault. Honestly! He could have let Malfoy's spell hit! It wouldn't have hurt Snape in the least. Or better, he could have not run off to St. Mungos in the first place! Then Malfoy wouldn't have recognized him at all.

And Harry was certain he had, recognized him that is. The look of betrayal on Malfoy's face when he realized Harry belonged to Snape had been painfully obvious.

But the stupid prat hadn't had to do that! Tell Aurors that your wanted for murder, death eater, godfather was right there in the room! What kind of person did that? Malfoy that's who. The stupid git. Now Snape was captured by the Ministry. He had his glamour but for how long? Did it need to be renewed periodically? Were there ways around it?

What was he thinking? Of course there were ways around it! It was a glamour! They need only use a point me spell or something like the Marauder's Map or pull a hair and throw it in a polyjuice potion or take a blood sample-

And Holy Fuck Snape was a vampire! Harry wanted to scream. Vampires were dark and dangerous creatures. Even if Snape wasn't discovered as Snape then he could be discovered as a vampire! They would probably just behead him questions unasked after all the mess he was involved in. If they didn't they'd at the very least snap his wand! He'd be forced to register, branded like cattle, and made to take that ghastly potion twice a month!

And if he were discovered as Severus Snape he'd been dead. Harry had faced enough difficulty in getting Snape pardoned posthumously as it was, because the Ministry was a cesspool of inbred idiots! Faced with an alive Severus Snape there would be bloodshed! Albus Dumbledore had been loved by all and sundry, Voldemort and his followers hated worldwide. Snape would be Kissed before the ink had dried on the written order even if they had to get a Bogart to play Dementor to do it!

The only thing that might save Snape was Harry Potter! Who was currently a house elf!

Harry couldn't breath. He was hyperventilating and nearly tearing his hair out with frustration. He'd twisted his ears hard enough to cause the tears that painted Harry's face but he had the sneaking suspicion that his tears weren't caused by the pain. They were caused by worry, and frustration, and heartbreak, and panic. He was such a bad elf! His Master was in danger, life threatening danger, and there was nothing he could do!

He needed help! He needed someone to fix this. If only Dumbledore were still alive he'd know what to do. Whenever there was a problem growing up Harry had gone to hi-

Actually that wasn't quite right. He hadn't gone to Dumbledore very often, if at all. He'd gone to Hermione-

-Who just happened to still be alive! She wasn't even working a the moment because she was taking the time off in order for her and Ron to get pregnant! And in fact it was Saturday! Which meant Ron would be home as well! And Harry had permission from his master to tell her who Snape was in the event of an emergency!

Nearly giddy with relief Harry hugged himself. Now the only thing to do was get there! And figure out how to tell them who he was. And then get turned back! And then rescue Snape!

And that was when he'd remembered he could apparate.

He was a bloody house elf! He could go anywhere he wanted in the entire world if he knew what the place was supposed to look like. He might even be able to get there without knowing if he really tried as being a house elf was awesome.

Anxious and nervous Harry closed his eyes and screwed up his face in concentration, entirely unnecessary as he'd apparated to Ron and Hermione's place a million times as a human, . . . and with a pop he was gone.

* * *

When he disapparated with a louder than normal pop he frightened Hermione.

A shriek of surprise from Ron also let Harry know he was present and Hermione's squeal of dismay made Harry turn to the sound a grin on his face. Only to find himself met with the sight of scantily clad best friends scrambling for their clothes as they tried to cover themselves.

Blushing furiously Harry covered his large elf eyes with his large hands and muttered apologies from safely behind them. So that was what Hermione and Ron got up to on Saturday afternoon! Harry would forever be scarred! He'd never be able to look at them the same again. Poor, poor Harry!

This is what he got for agreeing to being sorted into Gryffindor. Stupid Bloody Hat!

"What the bloody hell is this about!" Ron groused when he was sufficiently covered. Harry peeked and saw both him and Hermione were safely dressed before he dropped his hands and just grinned.

He'd missed his friends!

He hadn't known how much until just now. Hermione looked a bit different, her hair was down, which was a change from the bun she'd taken to wearing for work. Ron looked exactly the same though, except for the scowl on his face. The red that covered him from chest to ears was very well known by Harry, after living in the same dorm as him for six years he'd seen a lot of it, as it often happened due to the unavoidable embarrassments that sometimes occurred.

But now Harry was back! He was here with his best friends, just like always, and it would be exactly like old times.

"Hermy and Won Wheezy!" Harry cried then blinked in dismay.

Except for that.

"Oh, Bloody Hell!" Ron sighed exasperated. "Not again! Can't we get some peace!"

Harry frowned at him. Well that was nice! He'd been missing for a weeks and this was the welcome he got when it finally occurred to him he could return. Honestly. And they called themselves friends.

"Ron," Hermione said frowning. "Patience is a virtue which you are sorely lacking." She glanced at Harry. "I'm quite sure the house elf is here on very important business or else whoever sent it would have owl'd instead."

Oh that was right. Important business!

"Mistress Hermy is very right, sir!" Harry burst out, anxiety making his voice higher than it usually was. "My Master is in terrible danger!"

Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione smiled a bit in an almost indulgent way. Harry scowled at them and stomped his foot.

"It isn't funnies time." He snapped and cursed his house elfness that made him talk like a two year old.

"Of course not!." Hermione said and nodded. "Now tell me who you Master is and we'll get this all sorted out." She her lips tightened the word master but didn't break into her usual rant about how house elves were oppressed and enslaved inhumanely.

Harry hesitated. If he told them it was Snape would they help? After all Snape was a sore spot in their history. It was highly possible Hermione would hesitate to do anything without Harry's input and Ron would rant about how horrid he was. Harry sighed. Guess lying was the better choice.

"Master Rosey needs help!" Harry snorted at the way the name was skewed. That was even better than Lucy. "Master is in big bad trouble! Bad Master Drakey got him taken away!"

"Drakey?" Ron snorted "Wonder who that is? Wouldn't it be hilarious if it were Malfoy?" Harry grinned. Good old Ron. Always so quick to suspect Slytherins.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Draco Malfoy is not the source of all evil! Honestly!"

"No, Hermione, that would be Voldemort." There was only a slight stutter on the name. Harry rolled his eyes.

"But Won Wheezy is right!" Harry exclaimed causing Hermione's eyes to widen and Ron's mouth to fall open. "Drakey Malfey did get Paddy's master taken away!" Harry couldn't help the tears that statement brought and his hands started twisted themselves painfully. Not completely Malfoy's fault, no most of the blame lay with Harry, but that would be too hard to explain and he wouldn't be allowed by spells to tell most of it so Harry kept it simple.

"Wait, Malfoy, had your master kidnapped?" Ron looked like Christmas had come early.

Harry wanted to sigh. Of course Ron's dislike of Malfoy could also be quite stupid at times. Harry looked down and shuffled uneasily, hoping Hermione would pick up his distress.

"Nos, Drakey not do that." He mumbled quietly still twisting his hands. "Ministry people come," Harry lowered his voice even further causing Hermione to forward to hear better. "They come for Drakey Malfey. Malfey tells them my master know wheres Harry Potter is . . ." Hermione gasped and Ron sat up quickly.

"Harry!" Hermione cried. "Your master knows where Harry is?"

Ron nearly simultaneously demanded, "Tell us where Harry is!"

Harry thought it best to ignore Ron and focused on Hermione, which was proper as Snape had told him to come to her if there was an emergency.

"Paddy don't know if Master knows where Harry Potter is." Harry stated quiet firmly. He was going to protect Snape, it was the whole reason for doing this. "Paddy needs help to help Harry Potter."

They were still quick to grasp his train of thought.

"Help to help?" Ron scowled. "Whats that supposed to mean!"

Hermione barely stopped herself from reaching out to touch Harry. "Don't you mean to find Harry, Paddy?"

Harry shook his head. They still weren't getting it. "Paddy means help. Harry Potter is gone!" Hermione and Ron both paled. "Need help to bring Harry Potter back!"

There was a shiver of warning from the slavery spells that bound him. He was coming a little to close for their comfort. Harry just hoped they wouldn't attack before he'd managed to make them understand.

"Back?" Ron snapped his hand gripping his red hair in frustration. "Where'd he go?"

Harry shook his head, his heart hurting for his friends. They were honestly distraught. Over him. A large part of Harry's heart warmed.

"Paddy can't-" He shuddered as the spells sent iced pain down his spine. "spells." He bit out. "Protect elf secrets. Can't tells-" Harry trembled at the wave of pain that getting out those words caused. A warm hand closed over Harry's, soft and familiar. It was Hermione's and she was crouched in front of him, close enough to smell. Harry felt more tears welling up. He'd missed them so much.

"Its okay, Paddy." Hermione said softly, sadly. "You don't have to tell us if it hurts you."

Harry looked at Ron when he let out a angry breath. "How else are we supposed to find Harry then! We've tried everything! This is the first lead we've had." He looked angry enough to cry and Harry shut his eyes. He hadn't known Ron cared so much.

"Paddy," Hermione's warm breath wafted down from her position above him. "Can you tell us how to get Harry back?" Harry shook his head and Hermione's brow furrowed. "Where he is?" She amended and Harry shook his head again. He searched for what he could tell them.

"Green." Harry burst out suddenly.

Ron blinked. "What?" He asked rudely.

Harry smiled widely knowing he'd found it. "Harry Potter has green eyes!" He looked into Hermione's warm brown ones trying to will her to understand. He leaned forward very carefully and said very softly. "Paddy has green eyes."

Hermione gasped and Harry knew she'd got it. Her eyes teared up and she reached a trembling hand towards his face. "Harry?" She touched his face, just the barest contact of her fingertips to his skin.

Harry smiled at her softly. "This elf's name is Paddy, Mistress."

Ron glanced between them and mouthed 'Harry' once before clearing his throat. "Harry!" He exclaimed. "Harry can't be a house elf!"

Hermione sniffed and wiped her tears away with the hand that had touched Harry's face. The other was still tightly gripping Harry's hand. "Can't he Ron?" She asked shakily. "It makes sense. Why else haven't we heard from him? He was turned into a house elf, Ron!" She gripped Harry's hand with both of hers. "Slavery and binding spells would have made it impossible to go against the order of his Master who is probably a dark wizard. Now that he's been taken by the Ministry Harry was free to come to us!"

"Merlin's Gonads it does make sense." Ron whispered. "And Malfoy was somehow in on it!" His face screwed up into fury. "Just so he could get his slimy hands on my sister!"

Err, that was sorta right. Harry looked at them in dismay. How did they manage to jump to the wrong conclusion half the time? It was a good thing he hadn't mentioned Snape. Frowning he pulled his hands away from Hermione.

"Hermy wrong! Won Wheezy wrong!" Harry scowled at them suddenly furious. "My master never hurt Paddy! My master is a good master! Didn't steal Harry Potter and plot with Drakey to make him gone!" Harry's eyes teared up again. "My Master is in trouble! Big bad trouble. Paddy needs to save his master!"

"Dear Merlin, it is Harry." Ron gasped. Hermione shook her head and reached out, yanking on Harry, in order to pull him into a hug.

"Oh, Harry!" She said clinging to him tightly, making it hard to breathe. Harry sighed and let her, used to it. After all it was Hermione.

"Paddy missed Hermy too." Harry whispered from somewhere near her stomach. Her breasts were, thankfully, too high up to interfere with the hug. Hermione just sobbed from somewhere up above him.

After a long while Ron finally complained. "Mione, he has to breathe as some point!" Harry heard Hermione's laugh through her stomach before she slowly released him. Harry stepped back and looked up at her grinning through his tears. Drat his house elf emotions.

Ron just had to interrupt. "Well, Hermione, shove over, let me have a look at him!" Hermione laughed again and, wiping away tears, moved out of the way. Ron stepping directly in front of him and looked down, studying him intently. Then suddenly he grabbed Harry too and yanked him into a hug. He hugged Harry to him much more tightly then Hermione did and Harry gasped in pain but didn't really object. He hadn't realized how nice it was to have someone show they cared.

Oh, and the hugs were very nice too.

Ron was quicker to release him than Hermione but he kept his hands on Harry's shoulders as he pulled away. Looking Harry up and down he barked out an amazed laugh. "What else are you going to get yourself into next, Mate?" He let Harry go.

Harry grinned happily and shook his head.

"Well," Said Hermione sounding much more like herself. "The first thing we need to do is figure out how this happened!"

Ron snorted. "Obvious. Malfoy."

Hermione frowned at him. "Not necessarily, Ron. There are a million dark wizards out there, half of whom might have reason to get Harry Potter out of the picture." She turned to Harry expectantly. "What can you tell us, Harry?"

Harry frowned. What could he tell them? Ah. He knew. "Morgey." Wait. That wasn't supposed to come out that way.

Ron scowled. "Ah, yes. Morgey. Very helpful, Harry."

Hermione hit his arm making him yelp. "Ron!" Then her brow furrowed again. "Morgey." She muttered, as if it were a code word that needed deciphering. Suddenly her eyes lit up. "Egeus Morgan." She snapped her fingers as if congratulating herself.

Harry nodded very quickly, happy to have such a wonderfully intelligent best friend.

"Who?" Ron asked.

Hermione sighed at him in disgust. "The dark wizard Harry investigated just before he disappeared. You know, the one who's missing?" Harry blinked. Morgan was missing?

"Oh." Was all Ron said. Well, Harry never said he was the intelligent one. "But how can we find him if he's missing?"

Hermione grinned, looking proud of herself for her cleverness. "We don't, Ron. Harry does." She turned expectant eyes to Harry. "Can you, Harry?"

Could he? After meeting the man Harry was sure he could find him, but could he put his friends in such danger? What if the mad old wizard was in The Devil's Crown? Come to think of that wouldn't Harry have to find Bryn as well? She was the one who had cast the permanent spells after all. Harry looked at his friends and felt his ears droop.

"Dangerous. For Hermy and Won Wheezy. And Paddy" He added after a bit of forethought.

His friends scowled at him almost as one. "Harry Potter!" Hermione began. "You always do that. Try to protect us, unnecessarily. We really don't appreciate being treated like children, Harry!"

Ron nodded furiously. "She's right, Mate. You need our help. Bloody Hell, you came to us for help. You should just accept that its going to happen. We can let you stay a house elf! Think about how horrid it'd be having to play housewife for the rest of you life!"

He yelped even louder this time when Hermione hit him.

**

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**I have been in a horrible mood today, hating everyone. Then I read all the lovely reviews and now I love everyone.**

Again, pleased with this chapter. Characters cooperated, the story spit itself out from my fingers, and now you all got to read my genius.

I hope you enjoyed it

Fitful  



	20. Chapter 20

**warning:** nudity. and hermione's slight fascination with it.  
mention of adult matters, language.  
allusion to slash and moresomes.

**C**hapter **T**wenty

Harry disapparated into Morgan Manor with Hermione and Ron and found it completely empty.

Everything had been cleared out. The books and scrolls and tapestries and potions ingredients. Even the furniture and the Devil's Snare were not to be seen. It was utterly deserted. It looked like Egeus Morgan had cleared out and left without a trace.

Except Harry had focused on the wizard as an apparition destination and not Morgan Manor, which meant Morgan had to be here. The question was where was he hiding?

"Merlin, Harry." Ron exclaimed, his voice echoing in the empty room. "You sure this is the place?"

Harry's eyes narrowed and he passed a suspicious gaze over the room. Ah. There. Without the slightest effort he brought up his magic and sent in swirling into the air. The roomed seemed to shimmer before the illusion broke and what was revealed was a mad old man standing in the middle of the room, directly in the light of the setting sun, utterly stark naked.

"Ugh," Came Ron's immediate disgusted protest and Hermione's mouth made a soundless 'oh' of shock.

Egeus Morgan must have been interrupted in the middle of some arcane ritual. He was naked and rune's were painted in what looked like green slime completely covering his body. Upon closer look, which Harry felt justified in because he was a house elf and therefore didn't know better, the painted rune's were rather intricate. They weren't large, small patterns of runes made up larger ones, which made up a final stunning visual.

And Bloody Hell, Morgan might be old but he was muscular. Even Harry after Auror training hadn't looked like that.

He had his back to them but upon the dismantling of his disillusionment spell turned around. Ron immediately covered his eyes with a disgusted sound, suddenly very red. Hermione also turned red but she didn't cover her eyes. Instead she was looking at Morgan in utter fascination.

"Knew I should have waited to take the wards down." Morgan said gruffly looking at the trio. His eyes suddenly lit on Harry and brightened. "Paddy, m'lad. Can I do something for you?"

Harry wanted to roll his eyes but didn't. He just turned a begging gaze to Ron, since Hermione seemed much to busy observing to pay attention. Ron said the first thing that came to mind.

"Could you put some clothes on? Bloody Hell!" Ah. Good old Ron. Not exactly what Harry meant but not bad.

"Can't, I'm in the middle of something." The old man studied the walls intently, seeing something that Harry, Ron, and Hermione could not. "And that was what the spell was for. Its your fault for barging in unannounced like savages!" He then proceeded to ignore them, although Harry could hear his mutters about it being a crime he wasn't even allowed to walk around his own property starkers.

"But-" Ron began in protest before he suddenly stopped and drew his wand. With a few quick slashing motions he muttered something that sounded like it rhymed and before their eyes an invisible curtain seemed to smear the air into obscurity leaving all below the old man's shoulder blessedly blurred. The old man wasn't bothered in the least and Ron let out a breath of relief.

Finally Hermione seemed to snap out of it. Harry was slightly amused by the swallowed sound of dismay but didn't comment beyond a grin. She saw it and stiffed, her face heating even more, before snapping at him, "It's not every day you see a Rune Master at work, Harry Potter!"

Ron looked at them both blankly before shrugging it off as unimportant. Or more likely, as if he didn't want to know.

"Sir," Hermione began once it was clear she'd regained her composure. "Am I correct in assuming you were the one to turn Harry into a house elf?"

Morgan attention abruptly snapped to them, his hand posed in the air as if he'd been writing something. Then he looked at Harry in utter disappointment which made Harry shift uncomfortably and look down, feeling like a bad elf again. "I did." He said announced an eye rolling off the one direction before it came back to settle on Hermione. "You the girl who figured it out?" Hermione was a bit startled but nodded after a while. Morgan grinned. "Good. Want to apprentice to me?"

Hermione's mouth fell open in shock. For a long moment it seemed like she didn't now what to say. When she finally began to say something Ron beat her to it.

"No!" He snapped, glaring at the old wizard with suspicion. "She's not a dark witch!"

The mad man just grinned. "Pity. She'd make a great one." He shrugged and turned away, starting his rune drawings in the air once again. It almost looked like he was dancing. Harry was just glad of Ron's invisible curtain. He didn't want to know what all the man's movements might look like below.

Ron seemed to take even more offense. "Now see here. You turned our best friend into a house elf and we want you to undo it."

"Can't." Morgan hummed happily. "It's permanent. Not even sure I'd even know how."

Ron's face turned even more red with fury and he looked about ready to explode-

-when Hermione took over. "I'm sorry sir, but you don't seem to understand." She began very politely but also in her I'm-About-To-Give-A-Lecture-Tone. "This is Harry Potter."

Morgan just hummed. "So I heard, and I'm Arty by the way."

"Yes, well, hello." Manners forced her to acknowledge the introduction, such as it was, but she hurried to continue. "Perhaps you don't know, after being so out of touch with the wizarding world, but Harry is widely known, he's a hero of sorts, and when the public finds out about this-"

"-you will wish you'd never been born." Ron finished tightly. "Harry's The Boy Who Lived, he defeated Voldemort. If you don't turn him back there'll be hell to pay!"

"Don't matter much either way," Morgan flicked his wrist and his invisible drawing seemed to reach above his head. "I'm off to hell anyway. I owe a lot of money there." He grinned as if he knew what he said sounded like and didn't care.

"Mr. Morgan." Hermione said before Ron could yell. "It just isn't appropriate to go around turning people into house elves."

Morgan chuckled. "Actually it was a first for me. And it wouldn't have happened if your boy there didn't want it. For the magic to take effect there had to be many conditions met." His arms were stretched directly above his head now. "Ask the elf if you want. He's happy being what he is."

Harry decided it was time to help out. "Paddy's master is in trouble."

"Ah," Said Morgan. "Not so happy then?"

Harry shook his head. Perhaps it was time to confess. "Master is in trouble and it's Paddy's fault."

"Oy, mate!" Ron frowned. "It wasn't your fault. It was Malfoy-"

Harry shook his head. "My fault. Made Malfey mad and sad. He blame master and now master in big bad trouble." Tears were beginning to pool in his eyes. Morgan tisked, and Harry blinked away the tears to see him looking at Harry with understanding.

"I see it now." His eyes rolled opposite directions once. "And it makes sense now. Tell me elfling," He looked straight into Harry's eyes, and almost further. "Do you love your Master?"

Harry looked at him and understood in an abrupt moment of clarity. It wasn't about spells or being human or elven. It was about being happy. The silly old dark wizard had done everything he had because he'd thought Harry miserable and that he could fix it. Harry smiled. He thought he might grow to like Morgan, despite him being a dark wizard.

"I's love my Master." Harry whispered, feeling the truth of it. "He is wonderful." Hermione shifted and Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She had the strangest expression on her face, one he couldn't decipher. Then Morgan was laughing and drawing Harry's eyes back to him.

"Well then I guess we'll just have to save him then won't we?" Morgan crowed once, and finished his drawing with a crazy blur of ragged swoops. Then he brushed off his hands and stepped out from under his invisible arch, ducking a bit, and grinned. "Best call Bryn for this one."

With a skip that wasn't really in keeping with how the old man seemed to bend over into an old man's stoop with each step Morgan made his way to the fireplace. It was a good thing Ron's invisible curtain moved with him or the three of them would have seen things they'd rather not. As it was Hermione was blushing again, and Harry wondered what she was thinking.

There was still nothing in the room and as Morgan had no clothes Harry wondered where he'd get floo powder from.

Morgan didn't need floo powder it seemed. He just drew a symbol in the air with his fingers and the fire ignited. Then he got to his knees and crawled into the flames, although the image was unclear about exactly what it looked like. Both Ron, Hermione and Harry looked away while they waited. Then the old man pulled out of the fire and got up. His head and shoulders suddenly were crystal clear, as well as the soot that covered him. He grinned at them manically and stepped back.

The floo flared and a woman came through. It was Bryn, her long brown hair was neat and in place, and her robes were more of dress and fitted tunic than anything. She had a wand with her this time, it was a bluish green color and looked to be a bone of something at one point in time. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Morgan's attire.

"You are much to old to be up to such games, Arty Morgan." She admonished with a light laugh. "And no I'm not joining you. . ." She quickly glanced around the room, "four so you can forget it!"

Morgan looked disappointed, Ron turned an yellow green, and Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Paddy wants to be free and human again."Morgan motioned to Harry.

Bryn took one look at him and the laughter cleared. "No."

Hermione gasped softly and Morgan shook his head at Bryn in disappointment. "Now, Bryn. This here elf's master is in trouble, and he can't save him until he's human again."

"No." Bryn hissed. "I don't free slaves. Not once in a thousand years! I don't do it. No."

"Ah, is that your problem." Morgan sighed in relief. "You don't have to free him completely. Just a little bit." He clacked his rotten teeth together. "Just enough so as I can reverse some spells."

"Wait!" Hermione sounded horrified. "You have to get rid of them all! Harry can't be a slave! It's utterly inhumane."

Morgan snorted. "But he's not human is he? Not anymore, and even I can't change him back all the way. His magic is elf, his body is elf, his mind is elf. I might be able to make him look a little different, more human, but he will always be elf."

"And he will remain a slave." Bryn said coolly. "That isn't under negotiation." She looked around as if for someone. "I'll need permission from his Master."

Ron growled. "He's not available!"

"Then I will need collateral." Bryn hissed. "I do nothing for free, wizard."

Ron paled. And Harry sighed. Ron and Hermione didn't have the kind of money. Harry did but he was a slave so he supposed it was Snape's now. Harry winced at the thought, remembering how Snape spent money like water.

"You want the Manor?" Morgan asked suddenly, humming. "I'm in the process of leeching the magic out of it but it's for sale if you want it."

Bryn's eyes glowed. "Done." She smiled evilly. "If you leave the rest of the magic."

Morgan looked mournful for a long moment, before he shrugged and nodded. He turned to Harry. "Come here elf!"

Harry blinked at the order but obeyed. It was almost a compulsion. He stopped in front of them both, finding it hard to look at Morgan because of the blurring of his body below the shoulders.

"Kneel, elf." Bryn ordered and Harry heard Hermione's gasp when he complied. Harry shook his head and ignored her. He would have a long talk with her later.

Then Bryn began to speak, the language sounded alien and hurt his ears to listen to, and pain then licked its way around his body in waves. Pain and magic seemed to bite into his skin, then he could feel his skin ripping in places as spells lifted off him and sped away.

It wasn't as painful as getting them put on, and Harry didn't pass out, but he did find himself slumped in a pool of his own blood by the end of it. Loudly he could hear Hermione's soft sobbing and Ron's fury seemed to fill the room with an invisible fire.

Then cool fingers were touching his head, and the sound of the wind up above told him it was Morgan. And them Morgan was speaking and then his whole world was pain. His body felt like fire and ice and then his vision left and there was only darkness and pain before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

When Harry woke he was being cradled against Hermione's breasts.

When he realized this he squeaked and jumped away from Hermione with surprise. She looked at him, tears in her eyes and Harry realized something. He wasn't looking up.

"HARRY!" Ron suddenly roared and Harry looked up from his position on the floor to see Ron thundering towards him. He stopped just in front of Harry, and held a hand down to him.

Harry grinned and took it, letting Ron pull him up. When he was on his feet he immediately was pulled into a hug by Ron who started squeezing the life out of him. "Don't scare us like that, mate!" Ron whispered and Harry looked over Ron's shoulder to where Hermione had gotten to her feet and stood staring at them wringing her hands.

Ron let Harry go, settling a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder when he swayed. "Ron." Harry coughed then stopped in surprise. His voice was back! It wasn't high and squeaky anymore. Harry suddenly grinned, a bit giddy.

Stepping away from Ron he looked down, and saw the familiar body he'd seen for years clothed in resized robes. Normal sized hands, muscles, a flat stomach which was a change as his elf stomach had sorta been a bit turned out, like a bowl. He ran a hand down his front and back up feeling his chest and then neck. Everything was normal. And better yet everything was in proportion. He felt his hair, it was a bit longer but no matter, and his ears-

He hissed and pulled his hand away as if burned. Apparently not everything was normal. His ears were still slightly pointed at the tip and as sensitive as ever.

But really. It was much better than it had been. As an elf he'd felt very small and weak and very unattractive. As a human he was absolutely superb! Looking up at Ron and Hermione he grinned happily but stopped when he saw their long faces. Blinking, wondering what had gone wrong, his smile fell.

"What?"He asked, a little uncertain.

Hermione burst into tears and all but ran into his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around her bewildered. Was she a bit taller than last he'd seen her? He looked at Ron for explanation. Ron looked uncomfortable. He scratched his head.

"It was really bad, mate, when you changed back. There was blood, and screaming, and you looked dead for the longest time." He scowled suddenly. "And they," He nodded to where Bryn stood with a, clothed, Morgan. "wouldn't let us near you for a while. They insisted on-" Here he stopped and flushed. Harry waited expectantly. "Err- they sorta spent time petting you. Cast a spell to keep us away."

Oh was that all? Harry sighed, not worried anymore. In fact he grinned a bit in Morgan's direction, hoping he'd take it as a thank you. Morgan winked and nodded back. "Anytime, Paddy, anytime." He winked again.

Harry laughed and shook his head. Oh it was good to be back! Hermione suddenly pulled away. "Its not a laughing matter Harry Potter!" Her face was red and blotchy from crying. "You nearly died."

Harry laughed at her again. "That's sorta normal for me, Mione." He grinned. "S'no big deal."

She looked even more wounded then before. "Harry you're a slave," she stopped as if expecting him to say something. When she didn't she shook her head in despair, "and your hair-" Ron made a noise and Hermione stopped.

Harry frowned. His hair? "What's wrong with my hair?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Oh well, it's nice mate, but-"

"It's got some white in it, Harry." Hermione motioned to his head with her left hand. Harry reached up, before realizing he wouldn't be able to see, and then abandoned the motion.

Ron shrugged and looked away. "It's not bad, Mate. Mione's just upset your a slave still." His unhappy face made it clear to Harry he was unhappy about it too.

Oh. The slave thing. How much was still there? He thought of Snape. There were good feelings and some exasperated ones. He thought of never seeing Snape again. Oh, a bit of pain, he stopped that line of thought. He thought of obeying Snape. A hum of pleasure. He thought of disobeying. Oh bad feelings, but no pain. He thought of kissing Snape, and nearly smiled. Oh yes. This slave thing wasn't bad at all. He could work with this.

He grinned at the thought of how he could work with this. Suddenly filled with energy he snapped his fingers and conjured a mirror. A quick check of his appearance proved Hermione right. There was a rather wide stripe of white dividing his messy black locks starting at his temple directly above his scar. His hair also was much shorter than it had been as an elf and remained just above his ears making their new pointyness obvious.

With a frown he snapped a glamour over his new features, noticing it wasn't a wizarding one which made him curious about his magic. Banishing the mirror gave Harry the opportunity to study his magic and he realized it was still elf magic. He grinned. That was a wonderful addition. Now he wouldn't have to used his wand all the time. Snape would sneer and call him a show off but Harry knew he'd be impressed. And Harry could appeal to his Slytherin side and eventually bring him around.

Oh dear. Snape. He'd almost forgotten. He still had to save Snape. His Master. Harry blinked at the phrase. It had become so normal, and now it seemed to take on a different meaning. What that meaning was he wasn't sure. He shrugged mentally and put it out of his mind. It would come to him eventually.

With a grin he bounced on his feet and then, restless, decided it was time to go.

"Sorry, Hermione, Ron." He said in a rush. "I've got to go. I've got to save, Snape."

Hermione blinked. "Snape?" Ron gasped. "Did you say Snape, Mate?"

Shit. "What?" Harry furrowed his brow and shook his head. "No, of course not! I said Rose. I've got to go and save Rose."

Ron looked even more suspicious. "Whose Rose!" He demanded with yelp. "What about my sister? She's been brainwashed by that git, Malfoy, and-"

Harry shook his head sadly at Ron. "Ron, about Ginny." He stopped uncertain if he should say anything yet, before talking with Ginny first. Then rolled his eyes at himself. She'd lied to him for two years. What curtsey did he owe her? "Ginny's with Malfoy now," Ron looked ready to explode. "I'm okay with it. I went to St. Mungos as Paddy. I watched them. He loves her." He said the last bit very softly.

"You're in love with her too!" Ron burst out in outrage.

Harry smiled sadly and shook his head. "No. I was, but I don't think I am anymore. Ginny isn't the person I thought she was. And I-" He stopped and ran a hand though his hair. "I'm sort of in love with my master now." Hermione's mouth made an 'oh'. "Who's a man, so I guess that makes me sort of err, bent."

"Oh." Ron said weakly. "What's this about Rose then?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Rose is my master, Ron."

Ron nodded as if he knew that. "Oh." He was silent a moment before he grimaced. "Guess he'd have to be a poof, with a name like that."

Harry laughed and shook his head at Ron.

"Boys!" Hermione burst out suddenly. Harry and Ron looked at her and laughed. Suddenly Ron grinned.

"So you're gay, mate." He brightened even further. "That's brilliant!"

Harry blinked. Hermione did too. Ron blushed. "Oh! Not like that, Harry!" He exclaimed. "I just meant, well," He looked embarrassed. "Sometimes I think you like Hermione." Harry blinked again. "And it's understandable, she's pretty wonderful, but it's nice to know that I don't have competition after all." He couldn't look at Harry by the end of it.

Then his voice lowered even further. "And if you do like her, and things don't work out with this Rose character. It's good to know you could be with both of us, instead of making us break up our friendship over something silly like love." He was beet red now. "Not that I'm offering but, well, Hermione's fantasies sorta put ideas in one's head and all."

Harry was utterly speechless. Hermione wasn't. "Ronald Bilius Weasley I am going to kill you!" She growled and hit him, very very hard. Ron yelped and cast a wounded look at her.

Harry laughed, once, before he suddenly smiled. "You wouldn't think about me that way, would you Mione?" He gasped in mock shock. "I am appalled!"

Hermione buried her face in Ron's shoulder and moaned in embarrassment. Harry chuckled and then remembered Snape, unable to believe he'd forgotten him again!

"I have to go!" He suddenly gasped. "I'll see you both later! We'll talk, okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer but looked around the room once, nodding to Morgan who was seated in a reclining chair eating popcorn. An eyebrow raised at the strange sight he found Bryn. His goal seemed to form in his mind and come out his mouth. "Owl me, the next time you come across a house elf, would you?"

Bryn blinked once then smiled slowly. "Of course."

Harry grinned at her and then, with a wave for Ron and Hermione, who was frowning, he walked quickly out of the room and made his way out of Morgan Manor.

He really needed to have a talk with Hermione. Her attitude about slavery was a bit fanatical. What was wrong with it if the slave was willing, well taken care of, and happy? Harry knew he'd never been happier then when he was Snape house elf. And now he was human and still belonged to Snape. Life, for Harry, seemed to be wonderful at the moment. The future looked to be even better.

Suddenly plans flitted themselves across his brain and he suddenly had a million things that needed to be taken care of. He frowned in disappointment. But he needed to rescue Snape. Then it hit and him and he wanted to bang his head against a wall for his stupidity.

"Kreacher!" He snapped out and with a quick pop the elf apparated into view.

"Master is back!" The old elf cried, tears welling up. "What Master needs Kreacher for?"

Harry smiled. "I've a lot of things I need you to do, please listen carefully."

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**I don't understand how someone could jump up and down over my story. Nor how everyone seems to think it's funny. I suppose I might be immune to the humor, after the repetition it gets a bit old. I do like the story, but sometimes your reviews baffle me.**

**NOT that I'm complaining. I love reviews, nice ones. I do thank each one of you who did so.**

**And I feel the need to apologize at how err, shippy this chapter was. The characters seemed to take on a life of their own, and the allusion to odd pairings was the result. No fear, this will remain Snarry.**

**Fitful**


	21. Chapter 21

I am amused by reviewer(s) who, while they claim to be familiar with this website , don't know that reviewer and author aren't supposed to converse within the chapters posted. I am also amused by those who claim to like my story but end up leaving reviews that get steadily more insulting and result in expletives, irrational suppositions, and general malice. _I_, unlike aforementioned reviewer(s), _did_ leave my email address in my profile, as it's only an email address and can be changed should it become compromised, as well as invited others to chat w/ me via yahoo, while I myself find chatting rather invasive I must say. Perhaps I should post my phone number? Then I will at least be able to laugh loudly into closed ears, or perhaps _hear_ the supposed compliment inside the derogatory insults.

Fitful (yes. this is a pen name. gasp. i must be the first to think of it.)

PS: to my "non"anonymous reviewer. on my knees I simply beg you to leave your contact information so we may continue this privately and not parade our misunderstandings for all readers to see.

**Also if someone doesn't mind could you tell me how to reply inside the reviewer area? Apparently that is a feature I'm not familiar with.**

* * *

**You really don't want to read this Chapter. I was complemented on my humorous story not being ridiculous, but this chapter does manage to go there, and then disappear over the other side. You have been warned. DON't read this chapter.**

**warning:** here half the chapter is taken over by an oc

then the rest degenerates into silliness.

**C**hapter **T**wenty **O**ne

Harry Potter's arrival at the ministry was met with tears and pleading.

The tears came from many wizards and witches glad to see him alive and the pleading came from Harry who had to beg their leave to, well, _leave._ But soon enough Harry was free and he managed to disappear into the lift and escape the mobbing of the crowd.

Quickly he made his way to the Auror's Department. It was time he had a talk with the Head.

Valeray Mathias Chickering was a retired Auror who drug himself out of retirement when he heard Harry Potter was going to apply for Auror training. He had three Masters; one in Runes, one in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and one in Dark Arts. He'd been wounded in the war with Voldemort the first time around and had retired to the English countryside to enjoy his healing in peace. When Harry joined the Ministry he'd hauled himself out of retirement by the skin of his teeth and bullied Kingsley Shacklebolt into letting him teach Harry everything he knew.

He was old muggleborn Auror, widely decorated numerous times for valor, bravery, and strategy. Apparently his parents, muggles the both of them, were well known for the same in their line of work which rumor of what they do couldn't be agreed on as what could muggles do against crime anyway? He'd grown up knowing both worlds and well practiced in both muggle and wizarding techniques. The war had honed that knowledge into skill and he had been one of the best defenses the Ministry had against the new rising dark lord Voldemort.

He'd refused Dumbledore's invitation to join the order because he said he was a dark wizard who, while he had sympathies with the light side, didn't want to risk his reputation by consorting with Phoenixes. He'd refused Voldemort on principle, then because Voldemort ordered an attack on his parents out of childish spite. The Ministry had been all the better for his loyalty until the day his injury forced him out of the game.

Due to the nature of his injury, which no one ever really knew because it was the result of a dark curse the Ministry disallowed knowledge of as it feared the spell might fall into the hands of death eaters, he was refused time and again to come out of retirement once Voldemort sprang back up the second time around. He'd cursed Fudge up one way and down the other but Fudge hadn't allowed him back, even going so far as to ban him from all Ministry own buildings by way of a spell.

There had been rumor Lucius Malfoy had a hand in it but that could have just been speculation based on the fact that they hadn't been friendly in school. Chickering had been a close friend of the Weasleys and also a Gryffindor.

Harry had learned a lot from the man, enough that when his training was over he'd used his considerable influence with the Ministry and got him made the Head of the Auror division. The past year had been one of the best for the Ministry. Under his very strict thumb the Auror were put through their paces and dark activity was at an all time low. Needless to say the Minister was pleased and showed no signed of letting him fade back into the woodwork.

Which was why Harry felt it safe to quit.

Mathias was smoking when Harry walked into his office and choked on the pipe leading him to suck in a deep breath and then choke on the smoke. A noxious green ash filled the room hurting Harry's overly sensitive elf nose. He ignored it but wondered at the smell. There was Lakeweed, Valerian root, Wolfpetals, and a few other medicinal smells he usually associated with hospitals. It seemed Mathias smoke for a reason and it wasn't just a bad habit.

"Potter!" Mathias roared in disapproval. "What did tell you about surprises!"

Harry snorted. "They're weapons against enemies, gifts for friends, and good advice for allies, acquaintances, and idiots alike." He quoted bouncing on his toes not wanting to sit down.

Violet eyes flashed in approval and Mathias grunted. "Very good, lad. So it _is_ you." He set the pipe in drawer of his desk before leaning heavily against it and stared up at Harry. "If you knew _that_ how is it you've been missing for the past two weeks?"

Harry didn't need the spells to tell him to keep quiet. He didn't really relish the amusement Mathias would get from the story anyway.

"That information is classified." Harry gave in and sat on the edge of the visitor's chair but his fingers fidgeted with his impatience. He just couldn't get it out of his head that Snape needed him and he was wasting time. But he didn't rush it. Mathias deserved more than a resignation sent by paper airplane.

"Codswallop." Mathias looked irritated. "We both know you're not one to play by the rules."

Harry sighed. "This time I am."

Mathias suddenly looked attentive at his serious tone. "Tell me." He ordered. The order was a demand for further explation.

"I have lost faith with the Ministry." Harry began studying a sneakoscope on Mathias' desk in order to avoid the piercing gaze. "I have recently become more aware of the plight of magical creatures-"

"You haven't been brainwashed have you?" Mathias interrupted suspiciously. "I know a good person for detoxing if you were."

Harry laughed humorlessly. "No. It's honestly not that." Harry studied Mathias for a long moment before deciding to just trust the man instead of second guess. "I have become _personally_ involved in this." He said softly and watched as something clicked behind the old Auror's eyes.

"Ah." Mathias grunted. "That is usually how they get you."

Harry smiled faintly. "Yes, I suppose it is." He looked away for a long moment. "I'm here to give you my resignation."

A surprised hiss escaped the old man causing Harry to think he might not actually be the last Parselmouth. After all that sounded awfully like a curse in snakespeak. Sighing he pulled out the proper papers, unshrinking them as he did so. His made sure to watch Mathias' eyes when he did and was pleased to see him nod in vague understanding after witnessing the wandless magic. Harry handed them over and Mathias reluctantly accepted them.

Violet eyes met Harry's and a bushy eyebrow lifted challengingly. "I could see to it these papers get lost." He shrugged and motioned to the paperwork littering his desk. "After all, an old man can only keep up with so much."

Harry barked a laugh. "An old man like you could take over the world and keep it up quite nicely, so don't give me that shit, Mathias."

Mathias grunted but a smile lit his eyes. "What're you going to do with yourself, lad?" He scowled at Harry suddenly. "You can't just sit pretty and live off all that money your parents left you."

Harry laughed and shook his head. What was he going to do? Oh, he had ideas, but those included a few adjustments. Oh! He knew what; he'd send Harry Potter to America. After all Snape had hated it there, which in Snapespeak meant Harry might actually enjoy himself. But Mathias deserved the truth. He'd given Harry too much not to let him know what was going on.

"You ever heard of The Devil's Crown?" Harry said suddenly and nodded knowingly when the Head Auror's face went blank. "I'm thinking about finding a way into the trade, see if I can profit there. And," His mouth thinned. "make sure that it doesn't spill over into our world more than it already has."

"Without Ministry interference, Potter?" There was a flash of a proud grin. "You never did like pandering to the old lady did you?"

Harry grinned but didn't answer. It was time to go, said his elf clock. Snape's been suffering interrogation for nearly a day now-

Which reminded him.

"So now as I'm not missing, you can let Malfoy go." Harry said seemingly off-handly. "The only thing that prat is guilty of is stealing my wife."

Mathias snorted. "Stealing is still a crime as far as I'm concerned, lad! And there was the problem with the name change, took hours to get the paperwork straight. Could take a bit longer to process his release . . ." Harry rolled his eyes and he amended. "But in this case he gets off on a technicality, wife stealing isn't illegal yet, and the fact that Harry Potter personally vouched for him."

Harry chuckled. "And there is the matter of the other arrest concerning my disappearance." He trailed off when Mathias' eyes snapped to him and he scowled in sudden realization. Harry was quick to finish. "After all if Harry Potter isn't missing, and never even met this Rose character, then it stands to reason he's innocent." He blinked hoping Mathias would just drop it. "There'd be no reason to hold him."

Mathias studied him for a very long moment. "Ah. Well yes, there is that. Only there is reasonable suspicions regarding the fact that Salem Lillith Rose might be an assumed identity," Lillith, Snape? Really? ", for one Severus Tobias Snape who is recorded as deceased."

Harry blinked in dismay. "But there was a body. I saw it myself."

Mathias wove his fingers together and eyed Harry with piercing eyes. "Yes, so we've found as well." Harry didn't let out his breath of relief. "Perhaps the suspicions are unfounded."

Mathias suddenly let out a bark of laughter. "I met Lily once, did I tell you? No, of course not. She was a redhead, and acted like one. Quite the little hellion." He chuckled. "I was fighting death eaters and she comes up out of the blue, quiet as a cat, and started to protect my flank. Such a nice girl. We got quite a few of them, til a dark spell sped our way, headed right for the little lady."

Harry was utterly shocked by this news. His mum had been there with _Chickering?_

"I didn't even hesitate, dove in front of it like the Gryffindor I am." He barked a laugh again. "We weren't found for a long while, and she refused to leave to get help. Said help was on the way and just sat there with me. We were behind a rosebush, just waiting, and she picked one for me. Said roses were her favorite, not lilies as everyone would assume upon learning her name, and everyone deserved to get flowers when they're sick."

Piss and sod, Snape. Did you have to be so bloody _obvious? _What, did you pick the name Salem because you lived there while in America too?

"I'll just see that the file on Black's accusations gets lost then shall I? It was obviously some remark meant to get us off the scent. As for Rose, he wasn't arrested. In fact he came along quietly enough, cooperated, and hasn't confessed to anything beyond the fact he bought a Unicorn lung recently." Mathias grinned and picked up a file seemingly random. "I told Worthe and Ada to handle everything personally, didn't want anyone to panic." He cast _incendio_ and the file went up in smoke.

Harry sighed in utter relief, not caring that Mathias caught it. Snape would be safe. That was all he'd wanted.

Mathias cleared his throat and cast a spell that cleared away the smoke. "After all, imagine what the public outcry would be if they discovered Dumbledore's murderer is still alive, pardoned though he was." Mathias looked Harry straight in the eye. "There'd be bedlam."

Indeed.

"Thanks, Mathias." Harry couldn't help but be grateful to the man. Even if he hadn't helped Harry would have been but his elf heart was nearly dancing with gratitude. The old Auror had helped save Snape, and that made him a king in Harry's rose tinted eyes. Harry had to snort inwardly at the unintentional pun.

Mathias grunted and then looked down to his overflowing desk. "Get out, Potter." He growled. "I'm a busy man and you don't work here anymore!"

Harry grinned, got up, and left with just a whistle of a cheery tune to cushion the sound he door made when it closed.

* * *

Harry buzzed the intercom into interrogation room number 5, and laughed when he heard Snape's icy voice tearing Auror Ada a new one. The magic intercom link had been a new idea begun by one Percy Weatherby, if office gossip was anything to go by. It had been a smashing success and was now employed throughout the Auror's Department although the other departments of the Ministry had yet to catch on to the fact that it was even there.

Even the Department of Mysteries was stumped by how efficiently the Auror's Department worked and had done a one week study over the summer on the inner working relations of it's members. Unofficially there had been a ban on the use of magical intercoms over the course of that week.

There was a scrambling and then Worthe's voice came over the com, unruffled compared to Ada's which was shouting obscenities in the background. "Yes?"

Harry grinned like a kneazle who caught the snitch. "This room 54? I've an order of release for Gilderoy Lockhart."

Utter silence. Then.

"What the f-" Ada was interrupted by his partner.

"You've got the wrong room, sir. Who are you by the by?" Worthe didn't allow a hint of suspicion to cloud his voice. Harry was reluctantly impressed again.

"Oh, sorry. I'm new to Hogwarts and can't quite remember protocol all the time. I'm Harry Potter, Slytherin."

There was a scrambling and the com cut off. Then both Aurors fairly boiled out of the room, falling over each other to get out the door.

"Potter?" Ada squeaked when he saw Harry. Immediately his eyes went for Harry's scar.

Worthe, was more suspicious and had his wand trained on Harry from the moment he stepped out. "Harry Potter?"

Harry blinked at them, smiling politely. "Yes? I think that's me, after all everyone's said so. I'm not quite sure as I was positive, until an hour ago, that I was Wagga Wagga Werewolf. But then I overheard someone say werewolves weren't allowed in the School unless they'd brought their own Whomping Willow so I decided I must be someone else." Harry snickered in his head but kept his face pleasantly puzzled.

Ada frowned and stepped back once, as if trying to escape the madness. "What's wrong with him?"

"Don't know." Worth whispered. "He could be someone one polyjuiced though. Who knows where Potter's been." He looked at Harry even more suspiciously. "He did say he was a Slytherin."

Harry grinned. "I _know._" He agreed conspiratorially. "I kept telling the hat, not Hufflepuff, not Hufflepuff, and wouldn't you know! It puts me in Slytherin. Of course it was quite awful for a while there. This dark lord Riddle wanted to shag me and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to get Dumbledore and make him my bloody pet Grim before he'd leave off. And then there was the whole dying thing, when the dementors Kissed me and sucked out my magic. It was quite the terrible week."

"He completely barkin," Ada gasped. "What happened to him do you think?"

Worth didn't seem like he was going to answer, just looked uncertainly at Harry's wand, so Harry answered for him.

"I was turned into a house elf and sold to a vampire who also wants to shag me." Harry grinned very widely when there wasn't any pain from the spell. That was new. It must know he was joking.

Worthe sighed. "We better get him to St. Mungos. Can't say what happened til a healer gets a look at him."

"Will I get to meet Gilderoy Lockhart?" Harry wondered aloud. "I have his order of fags that I must have misplace a hundred years ago. Getting old you know, my hair is nearly all black now. Can't quite remember when I'm supposed to be."

Worthe sighed again. "Chickering's not going to like this."

"And it means, Rose's cleared, and Mal-Black." Ada seemed to wilt with disappointment. "They've both been here all day."

Worthe frowned. "Doesn't mean anything. They could have turned him loose before we brought them in."

"Yes!" Harry agreed. "I was in Hell recently. It's very cold there. Drakey should buy some fireplaces."

Ada snorted and Worthe sighed again. Harry grinned and stepped closer, noticing they tensed up, and the grip on their wands tightened. Drat. Still not yet.

"You look like Harpy Plotter. Did you know?" He said this to Worthe with complete innocence and Worthe finally smiled. Aha. Elf cuteness wins again!

"Actually, I've never been pointed out the resemblance." Worthe said and his hand inched towards Harry's wand. "Could you elucidate?"

Harry grinned. "You've got green hair. And your eyes are like moon, they have the smell of Moony's puppy in them."

Ada snorted on a laugh. "Shall I fetch the Minister? I'm sure he'd love to perform Harry Potter's wedding."

"Yes, get Flamel. I need to speak with him about his atrocious manners. Imagine keeping three headed basilisks in the the school. Detentions were awful. We had to get eaten by them and then stuck in their intestines in order to clean them." Harry turned a little green at the thought. "I'd prefer Voldemort's any day. At least there were death day parties, and bloodletting." Harry grinned at Ada, watching Worthe out of he corner of his eye. "Bloodletting's fun you know. Gets your magic to dribble out into the earth, and then you get to kiss Charming Cho Chang, the princess of the Seekers."

Suddenly Harry cast a silent disarming charm and both Auror's wands were torn out of their hands and into Harry's. He immediately backed up and looked at them very sternly. "Don't kiss her though, she's like a poisonous frog, wet and makes you funny in the head. And she speaks Parseltongue but the only word she knows is Ceddy."

Both Ada and Worthe were frozen, uncertain what to do. Harry had their wands, but he was acting weird and he was Harry Potter after all. They couldn't just attack him. Harry rolled his eyes and cast Legilimens before they could do anything. A quick trip, amazingly through both their minds simultaneously (must be a house elf trick), revealed they had kept the whole Severus Snape might be alive issue, between them and Chickering.

Pulling out Harry grinned harmlessly and lowered his wand slightly. "So sorry about that. I had to check for nargles."

Worthe nodded slowly and Ada just frowned. "Potter," Worthe began. "Could you give me the wands now? I must use them to check for nargles too." He smiled as if hit by sudden inspiration. "After all you could be infected and you wouldn't even know."

Harry blinked at him slowly. He was beginning to like Worthe a lot. It really was a shame he was quitting. "Okay." Harry said agreeably. "I must find Mum anyway, she said she'd be in the Department of Mysteries, chatting with Sirius." He added in a stage whisper. "Paddy's leaving for America today, by veil. Can't tell Rita though, she might want to come along, and he doesn't like her anymore since she married Hagrid and moved to Egypt with Peter Pettigrew. Turns out they're all veela and bonded for life or something." Harry shook his head sadly. "Don't you hate being Animagi?"

Then Harry moved, shot off a few petrifying spells that manged to catch both Aurors in solid statue. Then he cast obliviate.

Quickly he wiped all three wands of their history, cast thirty cheering charms on Ada to be safe, ten with each wand, and placed them back in their owner pockets, his included. Then wandlessly he canceled the petrificus.

Immediately they both blinked and looked around in bewilderment.

"What happened?" Worth asked looking suspicious.

Harry rubbed his head. "I don't know, what happened?"

"We've been obliviated!" Ada said cheerfully. "Isn't it wonderful?"

Worthe blinked, "Auror Potter!"He exclaimed.

Ada shrieked and giggled. "Harry Potter's alive!" He looked at Worthe. "You owe me, ten galleons!" He said cheerfully.

Worthe looked at Ada, confused and slightly pained by his noise level. "Someone has obliviated us, must be whoever took you Potter."

Harry frowned deeply. "I was taken? When? The last I recall I was in the Department of Mysteries."

Ada started humming. "Chickering will be very mad!" He said happily.

Worthe frowned. "We should report in, then go to St. Mungos."

Harry shook his head. "I've something to do, classified, you know. I'll be along in a minute."

Worthe looked worried but mostly just confused. Then he grabbed Ada by the arm and dragged him away. Harry smirked and reached for the magical intercom. He buzzed room 5. "Mr. Rose, as no charges have been filed against you and you've sufficiently answered our questions you my consider yourself released, feel free to leave at any time." Harry let the com go silent before he popped away to catch up with Worthe and Ada.

It was much better to be out of range of Snape when he realized who had buzzed in. Really, it wasn't like he _wasn't_ acting like a Gryffindor. It was just, he knew it was better to save up his bravery for later when he'd have to confess everything.

**Err, yeah. I know. I promise I wasn't high when I wrote this. It's just, I built up to the the climax of the story, climbed in that direction so cleverly, something was bound to go wrong. Which it did. When I got to the chapter where Harry saves Snape I only had a few paragraphs thought up. It was really much to short to be a good climax. I'd like to think I'm a better lay than that.**

**Anywho. This chapter sorta wrote itself. Sorry. I hope it made you laugh. It did me. I still laugh when I read it. I think I laugh so I won't cry at how terrible it is.**

**Fitful**


	22. Chapter 22

**warning:** here harry is sought out for confrontations

there's a sad ending

**C**hapter **T**wenty **T**wo

The matter of the obliviate was quickly fixed with another obliviate, which Harry thought much better than having to pretend in front of Mathias and listen to the old man smirk. Harry just obliviated them again and levitated them to their supervisor, one Coriander Nott, and claimed to have found them like that near The Department of Mysteries, recommending St. Mungos straight away.

Then he stopped by his office and packed up his things, shrinking them and putting them in his pocket, before ducking out and heading for the floo connection in the Auror's lounge. Like hell was he going to brave the lobby.

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry winced at the familiar shrill voice of his wife echoed down the ministry hall's and sighed. He should have known he'd not get away with out some sort of confrontation. He turned to see Ginny, her red hair a glow of fury around her head, striding down the hall. She stopped right in front of him and poked him with a long nail in the chest.

"You leave Draco, alone!"

Harry looked at her and frowned a bit shocked. That was it? Not even an apology?

"It's not his fault this happened and I don't want to hear anything you think you know about it! I am not under the imperious, nor a love potion. Draco didn't do it to get to you or something stupid like a school boy rivalry!"

"Gin-" Harry started.

"No, Harry Potter! I won't hear a word. And I think you should know that we are now divorced."

Harry blinked and felt himself start to get angry. He liked that! She lies to him for two years and then divorced him without even letting him know.

"What!" He shouted in frustration. That was it. From this point forward he was swearing off redheads. Ron and his family could go jump in a lake. "Bloody Hell, Ginny, How?"

Ginny folded her arms and glared at him through slitted eyes. "Ancient pureblood ritual." She finally snapped. "It says any pureblood witch can have her marriage annulled if married to a half-blood or muggleborn as long at their is no children of the union." Then she blinked as if suddenly aware of how mean she sounded. "Um, Harry."

Harry shook his head and held up a hand to stop her. "It's alright, Gin, I already know."

She looked sad for a moment then just uncomfortable. "Yes well," She looked away as if unable to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry about that. I-" She looked up. "I never meant to hurt you, Harry."

Harry sighed and studied her a long moment before answering. "I think I know that Ginny." He said slowly hoping it was actually true. The anger was gone now.

Ginny nodded once before her eyes hardened stubbornly. "But I won't have you going after Draco! He and I are none of your business now and I don't want to find him bloody and c-"

"Ginny!" Harry snapped impatiently. "I don't care about, Malfoy!"

She stopped mid-sentence. "I'm not stupid, Harry Potter." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Never said you were, Gin." His eyes shadowed. "I don't care about Malfoy. I'll even agree never to touch him at all if it'll make you happy."

Ginny hissed in frustrated disbelief. "What if your Auror duties-"

Harry shook his head. "I've quit." He said, trying to ignore his suspicions that she's bring up Auror duties in relation to Malfoy, a former death eater. "As of an hour ago I don't have any authority to do anything to Malfoy so," He scratched his head. "Don't worry okay?"

Ginny studied him for a long moment, before she finally nodded, suspicion easing from her eyes. "Okay, Harry." She suddenly looked nervous. "What are you going to do, if not be an Auror?"

Harry blinked, surprised. He hadn't really thought she'd care. Not that it was any of her business. "Maybe," He suddenly felt a like getting back at her. "Maybe, I'll go into the slave trade business." After saying it he snorted at how it sounded.

Ginny blinked in shock as well. She stared at him for what seemed like forever before snapping into reality and blinking rapidly.

Harry ignored her and scrambled for something to say. "You and Malfoy going to get married?"

Ginny paused once before squaring her shoulders and answering bravely. "Yes we are." Her chin inched up a notch as if challenging Harry to say anything.

Harry smiled, a bit amused. "Congratulations. How about you keep the house?"

Ginny's mouth fell open in shock. "What?"

Harry scratched his head again, wondering if he had flees. Perhaps he was allergic to elven glamours. "Well, I head his father disowned him, and you'll need someplace to put the baby. And" Harry looked at her and winced knowing he would have to come clean about one of his own lies. "I never actually liked it. Too small."

Ginny blinked in surprise again. "Well, if your sure."

Harry nodded and smiled. "I'm sure."

Ginny smiled back a bit uncertainly.

"Ginerva"

The name seemed to echo loudly in the hallway before Draco Malfoy strolled after it heading towards them. He finally stopped just behind Ginny; proprietorially he put a hand on her arm. He turned an eye to Harry, looking stiff and unemotional, despite the fact that Harry could see the fear chasing itself around in his eyes. "Potter." He said nodding.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Malfoy." Harry nodded back.

Ginny rolled her eyes once and then stepped back, into Malfoy's space, as a blatant show of support. As if declaring she belonged there. Harry smiled faintly at her again, even more amused. For a moment he felt like Dumbledore must have, older and wiser and fondly amused at childish antics.

Then without another word he nodded again, to the both of them, acknowledging they were now a them, and turning around he walked away.

When I was a child I thought as a child and acted as a child. Now that I'm grown I must put childish things away. He knew he was paraphrasing but he thought the general message of the quote a good way to close this chapter in his life.

* * *

"Mr. Potter!"

And again it would have been too easy.

Harry turned just in time to see Snape striding towards him. Harry waited patiently, his elf heart beating a bit fast. What was he going to say? Did Snape know who he was? Did Snape know Harry knew he was Snape? What was Harry supposed to tell him? I was transformed into a house elf by a mad old dark wizard and then was conveniently sold to you? Bah! All this time he'd been trying to rescue his master but for some reason he'd thought he'd have more time before he'd actually have to talk to him.

It seemed time was up as Snape finally stopped before him, his arms held behind his back, and studied him with sharp eyes.

"Mr. Potter?"

Oh. So he didn't know and they were going to play this game.

Harry nodded affirmative. "Mr. Rose?"

Snape's upper lip threatened to curl but didn't. "I do hope you are not expecting a display of gratitude for your assistance in facilitating my release." His eyes glistened with contempt. "As you _were_ the reason for my difficulties, after all."

Why exactly did such a statement bring visions of interesting scenarios that could be applied? Harry raised an eyebrow. Oh. He cleared his throat. "While thanks aren't necessary, customarily it is polite."

Snape smiled and showed teeth. Harry was fascinated by this response as it was one he hadn't seen before.

"Isn't it polite to inform someone before one hastens off into dubious company, Mr. Potter?" He raised an eyebrow of his own.

Harry smiled at Snape very impressed. "I stand corrected, Mr. Rose." Harry gave Snape a short bow. Was it anyone wonder he loved Snape? After all who else could so subtly insult Harry while remaining within perfect reason to do so?

Snape sneered. "I am curious as how my situation came to your attention, Mr. Potter?"

Oh? How amusing. Mr. Snape was fishing. How terribly cute. "Ah-"

Wait. What was Harry supposed to say? He'd hadn't planned for this. In fact he had thought he'd break the whole thing to Snape gently. Like over the next year or so, as he slowly let Snape get to know a glamored alias. He'd even had Kreacher begin the whole thing. But now wasn't the time. Snape would feel so betrayed by the fact that Paddy had been Harry all along he wouldn't give him a chance.

A soft snarl broke Harry out of his thoughts. "A house elf told you I assume? Drat the wretched creature." Snape looked fit to be tied. His hand had come out from behind his back and now were clenched by his sides. "Paddy!"

Harry felt the smallest of twinges through the still intact master/slave bond. Curses. He couldn't really answer now could he? Snape was waiting impatiently. Harry started to feel very bad. There was his master, waiting for Harry. He was getting angry and a bit worried as Harry could tell through the bond. Harry was a bad elf, err, human-elf-wizard person.

"Paddy!" Snape fairly hissed the word, a challenge given the letters in that name.

The spells were becoming irritated at Harry for ignoring his master. There was actual pain now, almost like a headache. Harry started to lift his hand to rub his head but stopped himself before Snape noticed. Snape was looking very mad now now and Harry in return was feeling bad. Bloody hell; he was going to have to tell him.

"Mr. Rose about your house elf. . ." Snape's attention snapped to Harry and Harry blinked at the sudden attention. He hesitated. "I don't think house elves can apparate into the Ministry." Harry winced inwardly at his cowardice. And he was supposed to be a Gryffindor.

Snape sneered at him but didn't comment. "If that's all, Mr. Potter?" He queried impatiently.

Harry shook his head slightly amused. "You were the one who stopped me, Mr. Sn-Rose." Shit. You are an _idiot_ Harry.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Did you- What did that blasted elf tell you, Potter!"

Harry frowned and did rub at his forehead. He had a really bad head ache. Snape's anger was getting to him. Snape was furious now. Harry looked at Snape and found the man glaring at him but worse was the hint of fear in those black eyes. Harry closed his. This was a very stupid thing to do. Harry should just tell him. He couldn't bear that look on his master.

"Who have you told?" Snape's voice was emotionless.

Harry sighed and opened his eyes. "No one." Snape sneered in disbelief. "Honestly, Snape. I wouldn't do that." Oh wait. There was that slip he'd made in front of Hermione. Harry winced.

"Potter!" Snape shouted his anger spiking dreadfully.

Harry pushed his fingers into his forehead trying to get rid of the pain. It was much worse now. "I might have let it slip in front of Hermione and . . ."

"And who, Potter?"

Harry grimaced. "A few others, but I don't think they actually caught it. It was a slip of the tongue."

"So pleased to see you think so little of my _life_, Potter." Harry pulled his hands away to look at his master. Snape was very pale, and curiously his wand hand was twitching as if he wanted desperately to cast obliviate. Oh. Well finally a good idea.

"If if makes you feel more secure, I'll see to it they forget." Harry offered.

Snape was silent for a long while. Harry watched him patiently hoping Snape would calm down. For some reason Harry had a very close connections to his emotions now and the anger was directly linked to his headache.

"Even, Granger?" Snape finally asked, blatantly a challenge.

Harry didn't even blink. "Yes. And Ron."

Snape sneered. "So sentimental, Potter. I'm surprised you didn't keep the memories for your shrine."

Ahh, a reference to the potions flask of Snape's memories. So he had been buried, but must have risen from the grave. Very cliched vampire story. Snape was slipping though, he'd given that information away, and the insult had been dreadfully weak. Poor Snape must have had quite the day if he was mixing metaphors. He should have said something about pensieves . . .

"Do you happen to know why my house elf refuses to answer?" Snape asked abruptly startling Harry. He stared at Snape. Snape must have seen something, guilt perhaps, because his face screwed up into a furious rage. "Where is my house elf, Potter?" Snape nearly whispered the question but the expression on his face was something terrible.

Harry closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his hand into his eyes, where the bone surrounding them had started to ache. "Its a rather complicated story."

"Tell me."

Harry sighed. This was going to end in tears. The odds favored them being Harry's.

"I was cursed by a dark old wizard who thought I wasn't happy." Snape seemed to tremble with rage at Harry's unclear beginning. Harry hurried to continue. "And then I ended up a slave, not that it was a bad thing mind you as I rather enjoyed it, and then you were in trouble so I had to find him and get him to turn me back but he and the woman who set the spells refused without collateral-"

"So you _sold_ _my_ _house elf_!" Snape hissed and Harry stumbled and stepped back his hand going to his head.

"No." Harry whispered. "I-I can't tell you when you're so mad, Snape!"

"If you do not tell me I will rip the information from your mind, Potter! And damn the consequences!" Harry looked up to see Snape's wand in his hand. It wasn't trained on him though, Snape had it gripped in both hands one at each end, knuckles nearly white. Harry panted but shook his head unable to answer. "What's wrong with you, Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes and snarled a spell, one he'd learned from Mathias. It wasn't precisely legal or light but it would, forcefully, block a magical connection. Harry hated to do it, and knew the slave spells wouldn't like it, but he couldn't handle this confrontation bent in half from pain. It sparked a light green and then the connection, and Snape's anger, was cut off. Harry sighed in relief.

"You wouldn't happen to have a headache potion would you?" He asked wearily.

Snape growled and lifted his wand. "Potter, you have two seconds."

Harry held up a hand and straightened up. His headache was fading, slowly. "I was turned into a house elf." There was a shock of pain at that confession. It licked down his spine making him want to snarl. But it was bearable. After all, he'd had worse. Recently.

"Coincidentally I was sold to you. The spells wouldn't let me tell you. And then I just didn't care if I ever did or not." Harry's heart was bleeding at the lack of expression on his master's face. Snape looked like Harry had confessed he was secretly Voldemort. The horror and betrayal in his eyes cut into Harry and the elf emotions started to well up into tears. . .

"Utter rott." Snape hissed suddenly as his face fell into a mask of rage. "Where is my elf, Potter?"

Harry shook his head. "I had to get them to change me back, there was nothing I could do as Paddy . . ." His hand itched to reach out to Snape. "I would never have done it if I had thought there was another way." Snape actually stepped back once. "I had to save you, Snape. You're my master." He whispered.

And it was that last term that sold Snape on Harry's impossible story.

He stepped back again, nostrils flaring, and his expression went blank again. Completely. Even his eyes. Harry swallowed hard.

"You have my thanks for you timely assistance, "Mr. Potter." Snape said stiffly. "I do hope you will keep the information you've learned to yourself."

"Snape-" Harry started but Snape had backed up again and turned obviously about to leave. "_Snape_." Snape stiffened and froze.

"Something else you have to say, Potter? Perhaps you forgot to laugh? Or did you intend to blackmail me? I am sure you know enough to do so but I will have to inform you that I will be moving to America very soon and you will have a long trip to get word to me as I don't accept owls."

Harry laughed once in disbelief. "Except for the Daily Prophet, you let that owl in." If possible Snape stiffened even further. Harry sighed. "Snape I swear, on my magic and life, I will not ever tell your private business to anyone without your permission. Please don't leave England just to get away from me."

A slight sneer couldn't stay hidden. "Quite impressed with yourself aren't you, Potter?" Snape refused to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "Not at the moment, no."

Snape gave a short nod. "Good." He snapped. Then he turned away from Harry and walked away.

Harry wanted to call him back. He wanted to say something. But there just wasn't anything he could say that would get through to Snape just now. And Harry himself was in a lot of pain. Besides, he had a lot to do. Soon, he'd talk with Snape. But not yet. Snape needed time to process.

Besides Snape would think him mental when he head what Harry had to say anyway. Better tell him in private, so as there wasn't anymore fodder for the Prophet.

* * *

**AN: I want to apologize for the childish sniping between me and one of my reviewers that has gone on. Both the reviews in question and my responses at the beginning of chapters will be removed after this story is completely posted. I also will be turning off the anonymous review feature, as I only get bad reviews from those who hide behind it. If you don't want to sign up w/ this website to review then please contact me by email or even yahoo chat. I do appreciate every person who has something to say.**

**Also, there is only one more chapter left. That will be posted tomorrow, 8pm.**

**Fitful**


	23. Chapter 23

**warning:** here harry kisses snape

and everything is sadly rated pg

**C**hapter **T**wenty **T**hree

With a pop Ossian Patrick Prince apparated into Child Okeford.

Child Okeford was a lovely village near Dorset. The Briarwood Cottage, his destination, remained a bit of a walk down the road but Paddy, as he was called by friends and acquaintances alike, liked walking so he took his time and enjoyed it. Autumn was in full bloom now, as witnessed by the multitude of leaves that decorated the streets and lawns. For a muggle village, this one was very sweet. It remained well kept and tidy, despite the leaves, and most neighbors were out and about seeing to it those leaves fallen today were whisked away never to be seen again.

The only mar in the vision was at the end of the road. The first thing you saw was a wall. Then, above the unnaturally high stone barrier, was the roof of Briarwood Cottage, all covered in dark shingles and ivy and roses. Climbing over the wall were also rosebushes, an untidy tangle that the neighbors on either side stared at with dismay but didn't go near. You could tell they avoided these bushes by the leaves that littered their lawns about three feet out surrounding the entire wall covered in rosebushes.

Once he arrived at this odd duck of a dwelling Paddy was met with a gate. It was a beautiful oak thing, with a fancy latch that twisted into the form of a small snake wrapped around a thorny rose vine. Paddy smiled, slightly amused by the sight, and pushed it open noting the wards that left his hand tingling painfully but let him pass. The walk was a thin line through a dark tangle of rosebushes, seemingly left to run rampant by a negligent caretaker, and led directly to arbor covered steps also dim as the only light that could be seen had to pass through an open roof also covered in rosebushes.

The knocker itself was a lion, strangely enough, although that would make sense if one knew the owner, one Salem L. Rose, claimed to descend from an obscure pureblood line that had remained exclusively Gryffindor. Once the knocker sounded there was nothing to do but wait. There was also nothing to see as the bushes obscured even the slightest glimpse into the yard beyond. Slowly ten minutes passed and Paddy, never one to let others get away with selfish behavior, knocked again.

Paddy was a patient man, although many like to point out the contrary because of his taking to dark arts and how forceful he was once a decision was made. He liked his tea strong and took the time to let it steep the extra minute to get it the way he liked it. He was of the mind that if he wanted something, and wanted it enough, that he would wait for it as long as when he got it it was worth the wait. One Mr. Salem L. Rose, whom to very few people had once gone by Severus Snape, was worth the wait.

When the door opened Paddy had been inspecting the runework on the borders of the door frame. The door opened suddenly, as if the person behind it wanted to surprise visitors into jumping despite the fact that they themselves had been expecting the door to open. Scowling initially to see no one there, as if he had been interrupted for nothing, Snape stepped back and then in the course of scanning the view, his eyes landed on Paddy and, if possible, he scowled further.

Paddy looked up at the man and smiled, suddenly noting the Prince nose quite evident in the man before him. Slowly he rose from his crouch, still smiling, and extended his hand, his _left_ hand as he noted Snape was leaning heavily on a cane with his right.

"What?" Came the rude inquiry and Paddy raised an eyebrow at the lack of a proffered hand.

"It is polite to shake hands when meeting people for the first time, Mr. Snape." Harry stated reproachfully and withdrew his hand unshaken, taking the offer away. "One would think your mother had taught you better."

Snape stared at him horror creeping into his eyes along with suspicion. Paddy smiled at him. That was his Snape.

"My name is Ossian Patrick Prince, and I have come to meet the last of my line." He smirked at the astonished disbelieving look that came over Snape. "You won't have heard of me as our family, my great great great grandfather I believe, had a bit of a row with his older brother, _your_ great great great grandfather, and packed up and moved away to America. My mother moved us back when I was born, after she learned of our esteemed heritage." Paddy rolled his eyes and snorted. "Pureblood pride and all that. I grew up here in England but went to Drumstrang, and then traveled the world."

Snape was still staring at him in disbelief but Paddy could see the horror and suspicion had eased and retreated into wariness.

"Any you learned of me, how, exactly?" His voice was harsh with suspicion and anger.

Paddy smiled. "I met this Auror. Seemed he was a bit distracted during our . . . friendly . . . duel and I managed to get into his head. I believe he's rather well known here; a Harold something or other? I managed to incapacitate him with a rather nasty curse actually, although I'd rather you not mention it. I believe he was forced to quit is job due to injuries because of it." Paddy smiled seemingly in reminiscence. "It was a bloodline curse, which leads me to why I am here." Paddy looked at Snape. "I'd like to make sure you don't remove it."

Snape looked at him, suspicion warring with interest. Paddy could tell, via a little magical insight, he was also slightly impressed by Paddy's skill, a bit disdainful of Potter, and highly amused by the fact that Potter had lost spectacularly.

"Well, now that all the muggles know my hard kept secrets, you may come in." Snape sneered when Paddy grinned at him happily and walked passed Snape into the Cottage's front hall. It was light and airy and clean, a vast difference to the walkway and front of the house.

"Actually," Paddy said after he heard the door close, "I had the foresight to cast a silencing charm around myself, in order to muffle the sound of apparition." He turned to find Snape watching him, his hand caressing his wand. "Although I did note your fantastic wardwork that would have done the trick as well." Harry raised an eyebrow. "House elf?"

Snape's expression tightened. "You don't want me to cure Potter." He stated, ignoring Paddy's question and compliment. "If you truly saw into his memories you would have seen our history. What would make you think I'd do a single thing for the spoiled, selfish, arrogant, _child_." He hissed the last word menacingly.

Paddy smiled letting amusement and slight confusion show. "Well, aside from the fact that he's in love with you, the word is the curse is eventually terminal."

Snape froze halfway through the sentence, concern flitted itself across his face as Paddy finished. Then his expression went blank, but his emotions were plain for Paddy. He was upset with Paddy, and very wary now. Paddy had the idea that if he could perform Leglimency, successfully, on Snape then he'd see potential curses running through the forefront of his mind, ready and waiting for use.

"What is your reason for leaving Potter with such a curse?" Snape asked, as if only interested scientifically.

Paddy smiled. "I have my reasons for wanting Harry Potter out of the way." He looked away from Snape noting the mirror in on the wall, Snape's reflection obvious in it, and the doors on either side, and the stairs that took up half the back wall. Beside it another hallway seemed to lead off into the rest of the house. "My line of work." He added quietly.

"And what do you do?" Came Snape's slow query, the voice a bit louder than before.

Paddy looked up to see Snape a few feet away. He smiled at the sight of the wand held carefully loose in Snape's wand hand. "I am a slave trader by reputation." He sent a meaningful look at the few house elf wards present. "I tend to specialize in house elves."

Snape stiffened at the last and another flit of concern chased itself across his face.

Paddy thought it was time to take pity on Snape. If he kept this up much longer the man would be more apt to toss him out on his ear than listen to his proposal.

"I hear you are actually in the market for a house elf?"

"Mr. Prince, I do not believe I feel comfortable associating with you, after all. If you will take your leave-"

"Call me, Paddy, Snape." Paddy interrupted gently. "All my friends do."

"Pad-" Snape started then suddenly hissed, his face twisting with rage. "Potter!"

Harry grinned at Snape happily.

With a snap of his finger he took off the elaborate glamour and it faded away leaving the ears obvious if one cared to look, although his hair did sorta hang over them now at it had been a few months since the whole fiasco. Snape was too busy hissing in rage to seem them though. His eyes did flicker up to Harry's hair, where the white streak was still visible. Harry had decided Paddy would wear the white in his hair and Harry Potter would not but Harry didn't want anything in the way during this conversation with Snape and felt comfortable enough that Snape's wards would protect his identity for the moment.

"'Lo, Snape." Said Harry, sliding his hands into his jean pockets, glad the illusion of slacks was gone. He really felt more comfortable in jeans. Unfortunately Ossian Patrick Prince wasn't a blue jeans sort of fellow, more to the shame.

Snape hissed in reply. "You are _not_, amusing, Potter!"

Harry blinked slowly. "Good." He said. "That's not how I wanted to come across."

Snape's fingers twitched. "What are you doing in my house, Potter?" His scowl could have been directed at Lockhart easily.

Harry avoided looking at him as he answered. "I wanted to see you." He'd promised, after his little game that actually got him inside, he would be completely honest with Snape. It was painful to see Snape's expression twist in disgust though.

"I do _not_ want to see you! Get out, Potter!" Snape actually pointed at the door. Harry trembled at the order but didn't comply. He would managed to fix this, he'd messed it up after all.

"That story about Harry Potter getting injured by a dark curse is everywhere." Harry hurried to say. "And the fact that he quit being an Auror."

"Did you come for sympathy, Potter, or applause?" Snape snarled.

Harry ignored the caustic reply. "I'm planning on sending Harry Potter to America, and then eventually letting the wizarding world believe he died." He watched as Snape froze a moment and think.

"Finally tired of the fame Potter, or did you think it would be better in America? It is true that Americans will believe anything." Snape sneer was now in play.

"I thought I'd try a new career actually, and a new reputation. Ossian Patrick Prince is as real as the next person, and more infamous than famous, really." Harry smiled smugly at that. It really had been a stroke of genius making that alias. He really ought to thank Snape for the idea.

"Mocking me Potter?" Came Snape's query, dangerously close to rage. And hurt, Harry could feel, beneath all the other emotions crowding the bond.

"Actually, I've heard imitation is the sincerest form of flattery." Harry said softly. "And you have my acknowledgment and thanks for the idea."

Snape sneered at him but the rage was quieter. "Do you honestly think no one will find out, Potter? Eventually someone will see past your glamor."

Harry licked his lips nervously. Damn. Here it was. "Actually, I've been meaning to tell you, I came here to tell you, I-" Harry took a deep breath watching how Snape noted it. "I used house elf magic to make the glamour. " He didn't look at Snape as he said it. "It's like yours, unbreakable."

Snape studied him his sneer still evident. "There are ways to break it. Someone might even be able to see through it. Vampire-" He coughed suddenly. "Vampires can see through mine, if they wish. As I used vampire magicks to create it."

Harry nodded. "And only a house elf could see through mine." Harry looked at Snape whose sneer had faded. "I- When I had Morgan change me back, he didn't complete the process. In essence I'm still an elf, I just look human. And my magic isn't wizard's magic. I'm not even a wizard anymore."

Snape looked intrigued in spite of himself. "Did you come for a cure?" It wasn't an offer but it wasn't a refusal.

Harry smiled. "No. I am quite happy with what I am." He looked down shyly. "In fact I was never happier than when I was your house elf."

Snape snorted in surprise and disbelief. Then after a moment he sneered and Harry could tell he felt oddly flattered. "Perhaps it was simply familiar." He said his eye's glinting. "After all you were raised that way, it must have been like going home." It was a dig. Harry didn't let it get to him.

"No. The Dursleys never treated me half as well as you did." Harry met Snape's eyes challengingly.

Snape blinked slowly. "Did you come to offer your services?"

Harry smiled and stepped forward once. "Yes." He chuckled. "After all you never gave me clothes."

Snape sneered. "You disobeyed my order to not interfere, Potter." He glared at Harry. "I really ought to."

"And give up the opportunity to have Harry Potter at your beck and call?" Harry lifted an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should just punish me instead."

And odd look came over Snape's face. Harry could feel his interest though the bond. And hunger. Snape hadn't eaten in quite a while as far as Harry knew. He took another step in Snape's direction.

"After all," Harry whispered softly. "You are still my master."

Snape hissed, but it wasn't in anger. It was in exasperation. "You are an idiot, Potter." He said. Apparently he believed Harry now.

"Hmm, sure," Harry looked at Snape, truly looked at him for the first time. By Slytherin the man was gorgeous. Truly. And it wasn't the glamour. It was him. Harry was close enough to smell him and Snape smelled of ginger and cinnamon and roses. Harry sighed. "Snape?"

Snape looked at him. They were very close now, although Snape himself hadn't moved. He lifted an eyebrow. "What, Potter?"

"Can you shut up now?" And before he could register the affronted look on his master's face he leaned forward, using his toes to gain height, and kissed Snape.

Snape's shock ran though Harry like cold water; the bond almost dissolved from a tunnel or wire into a something like a glove around him. Harry ignored Snape and kissed him instead. He noted the cool lips and smooth face, slid his hand into the hair he'd been wanted to touch for what seem like forever now. Snape didn't really participate, but his mouth did seem to open in shock or protest and Harry took advantage and slipped his tongue inside.

He couldn't help but sigh happily at the feeling. His master's mouth was warm and moist and tasted like Snape. And it was when he flicked his tongue along Snape's fangs, tucked up and hidden behind his canine teeth, that Snape reacted. There was a moan, the teeth fell down and Harry licked them again, and then Snape was kissing him back. A single hand crept around Harry's head to pull him closer, or perhaps hold him in place.

Harry shifted closer, and fitted his lean body against Snape's. They fit so well together. It was gratifying. It was extremely pleasant. It was . . . very arousing.

Especially with Snape's tongue in his mouth now, and Snape licking his way down his throat. Bloody Hell, he thought Snape was a vampire not a bloody basilisk. Harry could tell he was moaning though, it hummed through the kiss and nearly rattled his. And Snape was bending over now, and Harry didn't have to be on his toes to reach him. And his master was practically devouring him. And not his blood this time, but _him_, Harry. And Harry shifted closer-

When he realized he needed to breathe. It was an annoyance that soon turned into a need. Even stolen gasps when chasing Snape's tongue back into his mouth didn't help. Harry got distracted when Snape sucked on his tongue and his teeth grazed it most intriguingly but finally had to pull away.

Snape whimpered a moment then tried to pretend like he hadn't then he scowled at Harry, and Harry could feel doubt and anger and hurt and suspicion welling up in Snape.

So he took a few deep breaths before darting up and kissing Snape again, chastely this time, before reluctantly stopping.

"Have to breathe, Master." Harry gasped and smiled up at Snape's scowl, and brought his hand to Snape's chest where his finger's splayed over Snape's heartbeat. Harry was fascinated. Snape had a heartbeat? And a reflection too, Harry remembered. At the time he'd thought it a trick, but if rumors about one vampire characteristic was wrong what else was?

"I did not give you permission to breathe, slave," Snape growled at Harry. "Nor to stop."

Harry closed his eyes a moment, and basked in the pleasure that statement invoked, before he opened them. "We have to talk, Snape." Snape hissed and Harry hid his head against Snape so he wouldn't be tempted again. Merlin, it had been nothing like kissing Ginny. Why had he gone so long without ever kissing Snape? It felt like it should be a crime or something. Harry cleared his throat to reminded himself to talk.

"You never said if I could stay?" Harry's sighed and looked up into Snape's dark eyes.

There was a long moment of silence. And then Harry started to feel nervous. He hadn't said enough, apparently. He should have told Snape everything in a letter or not tricked him with the Ossian Patrick Prince or told him first about still being bound to him or apologized for disobeying and for haring off and getting himself turned back without permission or he should have mentioned he loved him-

Snape hissed and it was then Harry realized he'd been in his head. And he'd just heard everything Harry had been thinking.

Harry looked down and studied Snape's robes, feeling hot with embarrassment. The robes were very nice, actually. These weren't brewing robes, those were made of different material. In fact Harry thought these robes were the ones that had hung on the coat rack that stood just outside Snape's potion's lab. Snape had ordered Harry not to move them and Harry had wondered what they were for. Snape must use them for greeting guests, he must have his brewing robes on underneath, or taken them off before he put these on. They were really very nice. The cloth wasn't one he could name, as he never really paid attention to that sort of thing, although Prince did so perhaps he should educate himself-

"Beg."

Harry blinked and looked up at Snape. What?

"I'd like to see you beg, Potter." Snape was eying him, challenge glittering in his eyes. "Just like you did when I bought you."

Oh. Harry swallowed. It was one thing to beg as a house elf, which had been, mostly, sexless in Harry's mind. It was quite another to do it when he was human and had just been _kissing_ Snape who was his master.

"If you want to stay." Snape added.

And that was the challenge. If Harry wanted to stay badly enough he could do it. But Snape didn't think he would. Harry snorted. The man was far too insecure. And he thought too little of Harry. That would have to change.

Then Harry had a thought, and he raised an eyebrow. "Did you want me to do it here?" And for emphasis he leaned forward and kissed Snape, just the barest touch of lips. Snape breathed into his mouth once before Harry pulled away making Harry grin.

Snape sneered at Harry then motioned for the stairs. And Harry knew he had won his happily ever after. He grinned at Snape, his master. Everything was going to be quiet pleasant from now on. He and Snape would be content, Harry Potter would fade away into the woodwork, well for the most part, and Paddy Prince would take his place. Harry did raise a confused eyebrow at the direction.

"Unless you want to live off the kitchen like a servant?" Snape sneered showing what he thought of that. "I'd like to think you'd want a normal bed, perhaps one that your feet won't stick out of-"

"And isn't empty?" Harry asked, hoping it wasn't too soon.

Snape stared at him a moment before suddenly smirking. "If you insist."

Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Snape to stay the protesting maiden the whole way there. Bah! Slytherins.

The End

**Ta Da. The Briarwood House Elf is finally finished!!!!!!!!!!!**

**I am open to editing it if anyone wants to beta, but I doubt I'll do anything more with it on my own. I have no thoughts for a sequel, sorry. **

**And I apologize for the rather tame ending. Just A Tip: if you want to write explicit sex into a story **_**don't**_** tell your mom your writing a story in case she wants to read it. I made that mistake and was too self conscious the entire time to write anything; you are all lucky your got even Horny House Elf Harry. I was also wary of getting kicked off FF . Net as I am not quite sure what is allowed and what isn't as I have read rather explict stuff and a lot of stories where the sex scene is posted elsewhere. Those always annoy me, I am an instant gratification kinda girl.**

**Feel free to review, ask questions, contact me for anything you need. I am always open to recommendations for other stories, as I love reading fanfiction, if fact if you review I am bound to go and check out your fics and favorites just to see if there is anything I haven't read yet. **

**I do hope you all enjoyed The Briarwood Elf, and I want to thank each and everyone of you that reviewed. I swear the only thing that makes me happier than getting a good review is reading a really great Snarry.**

**Kisses and Thank Yous all around,**

**Fitful**

**PS: If anyone wants to do a Harry Is A House Elf story, (you all are welcome to the idea) let me know when you've finished. I'd love to read it.  
**


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